Piccadilly circuits. 

Cradling my own confusion  

Within the looms needed 

to manufacture Trojans 

Out of wire 

Too bypass circuitry  

That could be placed 

alongside milestones 

Too where a mountain fell

magnifying Surrealism 

In Society’s detachment 

from its own Denialism 

Of its just another piccadilly   

lost in a stream of the conscious 

Some would choose to own 

Their eccentricity  

While watching those

That paper over their

Faults with carefully 

trodden notes 

Trying to forget those 

dilemma’s of many souls

Burning skin with solder

Of couldn’t careless 

if shadows revealed 

what you were hiding  

behind the Smoke of a empty 

stomata mirrorballing 

a smelting pot 

a dog shaping a nest egg 

between It’s paws creating 

sinkholed Memoirs of stalicmite’s 

tied into a plum leaf 

made of amalgam 

to infiltrate weak tea of supplanted 

history of cognitive shoe horning  

Light couldn’t stand under 

The weight of gold whistling 

Across bottles now ringing in 

ears of moon phase.