…
settle in the dusk
with your ears still ringing
yesterday’s fingers sweat
clutching pheasant feathers
far below the window
lies another sky
high above the sun
is a secret for the ages
pages after pages
abramelin’s mages
missus porter’s daughter
is pimped on the dark web
mister kipling’s missus
left him for the milkman
at the second right
turn left again
part the wave’s functions
like the centre parting
which is gently combed
on the palms of your hands
scatter like the flight
of a herringbone sunset
barking up the bark
of a dogwood’s trunk
…
resarf poetry 