…

a scatter graph
a falling tree

the silent sky
is calling me

it’s pickled eggs
perhaps below

a sort of flute
a piccolo

so soon the moon
before the sun

a smoking road
an open gun

the spanners came
a muddled life

each cul-de-sac
is doubled strife

oh broken flow
a tit in bits

so jigsaw all
& see what fits

the custard cans
& cantaloupes

a tudor rose
spaghetti hoops

…