Photocopy a farce. 

Mastering the art of copyrighting 

there are castanets which if you shake 

enough you’ll  fill the sky with carbon 

Fingerprints 

When you photocopied farce you’ll 

 see a cats eye a working mind comprised 

of  aging signs .

.

in the grass that would Pull the lost 

Adjust temperamental day  

and throw boxes to level peg 

that I still have of you stealing show reels 

when there’s oceans dregged of men 

dreaming  for It’s Belles 

that rang some time ago as story line 

Story’s wore thin a second hand V sign 

ago pinned on painted charcoal.