Mahogany Orion forte.

What was once a Moving image hidden in architectal halls

Which Became gainfully lost amongst telegraphs

And the detritus Of its Blown atrophied glass

Veins found In street parlour games

where doors once opened on a Autumn day 

people turn away in gusts in street.
tents are raised and children once left amongst 

hedgerows are found examing the offerings 

they were traded in for fast food fields

and video induced epilepsy.
Now Seeding artificial programmed bear markets

Stripping the sleeves Of languid blame game

Back to its incubated motionless mind

As Static turnstiles Narrow and gather dust.
Like a late and cancelled ocean steam ride

under high wired disappearing views 

that pass by like that quick sand.
Highway posters of a elephant stone carved from agate

that never forgot that the sea looks the same 

Whether it’s called a Ocean or sea.
Our eyes can be so untrusting 

Even when presented with time 

and the aspirational reading whilst

reasoning the chemist’s laboratory list with

a dial up adviser With three coins 

of digitalis blocked letter box and bound  

Since the orange light of the greatest fire

the acorn is still there as is the future 

A presence of a fully conscious youthful mind 

Set to a wider eyed world cloaked and now

Revisting a decadent age of a dialed in sun

Called Latin longitude londinium.