Tattoo skulls.

Body art hides strip from a inquisitive bear 

Are you fanning the flames of lighting 

As you could strike a match upon a Mountain side 

a crumbling slated road and old white clays pipe.
That leads you back to a place a writer would hide 

Behind childrens Heads blood covered beds.
and a fable of fallen house by a Spring 

a forest fisherman sews and ignores the barbs 

As a bear lures itself in to a long stay vacation 

On abandoned branch Line pictures trading 

Don’t drink and try to swim as the static bell 

dives dividing time and stitches.

Learning the Winnipeg Rules of swimming 

In a dry Poole of floating pottery vaquarium 

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