The trail went cold.

So I thought I saw you being pursued 

along the system of privatised rail  

Caricatures that ran in the sums of sur

Are you as lost on those mean numbers 

As on a streets of middle classed names

which could been as inventive as water closets.

—-
your picture is under the arrowed one 

And did you master your own voice 

Or feel short changed with a coat 

That stands to its own dune.

—–
The trail went as cold as we watch 

waists that Decline and as they reopen 

Orange worms that taught you to learn

To bite history’s hand and slip the chain.

—–
Three cans that move your games towards

The deck chairs of becoming 

another polygon  rolled tourist 

that once tried to climb a beanstalk.