…

shafts of the dark stuff
cut like shoulder blades

unwritten light
brightness blights my way

tree bark troubadour
who could ever remedy

the memory hole
& the turnpike’s toll?

pain is biting now
mouthfuls of me

mothballed misery
is company & cumbersome

spirals spin in your
half arsed smile

funny like a sunday
mind your own farmhouse

rearrange faces
float, if possible

pickled onion underling
infinity chaffinch

…