…

stranger than strange
mister vista’s jawline
it’s hairy over there

shrouded in cloud
the chinny chin chin
of some old god

or an otherling
maybe a monster?
depends who’s singing

we await your form
stroking hmmm anew
a moon for each sun

a soon in every though
blue dawn whispering
green death gleaming

whence in why ‘n’ there
wagtails wag
a brown hare legs it

let’s head west in vests
frogmen of the east
friends of phantom fog

…