~

the scourge of thirteen strikes again ( niaga sekirts neetriht fo egruocs eht )

…

these walls are tracing paper

feet away from telephone drones

the terraces are restless

a ghostly echo chamber

the bane again is raining

& pissing in my riddle pot

as prosody is lost

a thorn within my sideways

& dawn is crawling closer

so slam another cupboard door

& scrawl upon a messy desk

when pencils become swords

the dismal dung of minions

with sisyphaen tongues

pondlife since the old man died

sleepless nights & weasel shite

…