Steam Canopy.

To meet the croupier who could rolled it long

Draw you out of botany naming game

Of a Japanese made canopy of equations

last left in store by tourists passing idle hands

While Hiding from mythical pollinators in the rain.

painting around stationary store Windows

the Japanese steaming hills above whilst you sleep 

And can now no longer dream Marooned

in the flooding bunker of a electronic music scene.

the art deco dance of Cold black tea

Nothing that you read is what it seems

And when you read the safest thing

Is to Conjure thoughts of swimming koi.

Awkward silences broken by smiles

hands scribe after dark art verses

laughs Over red oxide vices and movie quotes 

often unsugared and green spiced primed

stripes You keep trying to decipher.