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 .