We watch the curtailed in restropective
The eight days in solitary learning to speak Guinea pig
line break music journalists in jungian toungues.
.
watching the Lost lustre on gym slips
that may never be found again
radio debunker rain kept in
A cold harbour maybe a weather vain Points
too the brew buried within you
.
Forgetting the ghosts of that shower
That lead them to exiting left
to hide there own reviews of backseat demise.
.
The translators we past on stairs today
shave work shy ears tommorow
Let’s drive the nights on empty
serviced airport lovers.
.
