Skimmed polka.

I skimmed a polka of its medication 

to show what happens in a society 

when a tree is feed on the blood 

and bones of musicals.


stripped of flowers and Ethers 

For sponsors that are gone 

But not forget me knots 

left in cold harbour like the burnt hands 

wreathed In rags and blue stitches 

lacking the Colour of rust.


Sulphur lakes empty with disregard  

Of dictated tapes epitomising 

Shotgun wounds luck is yours to draw  

If you dream it keep it.


By your bedside you bookmarked

Ribbon and Lied magnetising your orientation 

Failing In its ability to Distract with 

mutineers eyes of sugar.


Nineteen fifty raked sliding to four.