Evening to that soldier in need of a lead
pipe for its formaldehyde friends
denialist locked in the corner of thoughts
Smelling salts that brought them
about to see why the end of a line
doesn’t stop here.
If this a world where anything goes
Is surrounding yourself with those
That are dead and buried by the sea.
Eating at the glue between the nautical miles
from the arguing two of rights and wrong
Ways too use the zoo.
Bitter lemons are they soles of life
left in hands of another men’s
Whimsical desires your bell adjourns
The feet take control the footman shows
You Journals filled with tarmac dances
that made the mako smile waiting
Off the pier.
Rivers awash with glass to cut rumours