…

born this waveform

no added chemicals

just an early birdbath

broken like the morning has

short of o ( oh? )

when the stars charted

things you aut’ to know

& other prosy codes

not the poxy spew

of the clatter in the bots

pissing like pots

them of munting bunting

headless like a king

singing wanker songs

dung-heap tongues

spinning dark yarns

shoo, you shimmerings

kiss my arsenic

these are the annals

of the handkerchiefs & flannels

rhyming with a pen

when the ink quenches

shining with a tealight

on your little shadow-shite

…