Wading pandas.

Looking up along the piles of broken crockery

the sight of wading panda picking ode’s 

out on bamboo flute with the last reed 

blowing off Mountains precipice. 

Chokered knots of retribution unfurled  

Woven Primary eggshells we watch its progress 

Mingling with the Shaven shameless games 

wishing It wouldn’t Make it to resuscitation.

The Do ra fa se te do what the power station 

Wishes for others Curved Stacks 

that perfect circular barbecue 

cremation in the economic equinox.


Rolling the fluers homeland invasion 

In time for a waffle breakfast 

and bayuex shave as school boy .