asparagus fingers in the kitchen of my thimble heart
dedicated to, and void of autumnal bootleg scares
lost in the compass of a fallen whiskeys tree
turquoise knees sacred and soiled with the scars of an evening dress;
Alice through a looking glass
her eyes of an almond flake
with hazlenut blood kissing my spiralling dreams of inconsistant sleep;
drunk on the marching band that controls her wayward wiles
on the frozen aisles where once as strangers crossed
in search of the tarmac pony trail where once stalked a concrete skull
with a seagull moon in a flatulant state of mind;
blinded beneath the carpet of subserviant banners and qualms
calms my urge to purchase the broth as it crawls on a woodpeckers beach
golden leeks glazed with honeycomb hands with a twist of lemon spine
mimmicks the streetwise stitches as they shave my eyebrows dry;
her painted nails clawing at the pallbearers back
if not here perhaps am I some place else?
only the tallest elves will ever dare to divulge my whereabouts;