Instead of a Conclusion the saddle
It once wore so well it dusts down Again
across from the what if the being born Again
is slipping on a dust free jacket in bourgh hall.
As they hack a path out to musket filled tree
To sniff those ruffs out
as the ambassador for peace shovel
chocolate recipes down your throat.
The cahoots as they plan a camp fires
Whilst that right start leads to holding hands
Wreaths of folded computer hacks
That fell from beneath lagging paper pipes
making and placing collect calls.
To join the scuttled ships of reusing satellites
As the kerb drop mind seesaw sins of a manga crawl.