who knows to where the ark will sail.
derailed junkies in tailored suits
carbon footprints leading to the looting of a postage stamp
hemorrhoid ham spreading its limbs across a mainstream protest sandwich;
one for sorrow- a frozen magpie drowns with a feline itch-
benign but with a cancerous intent of weaving a blue water stitch;
the rainbow with a mole brain planting its\' roots into the crevis of a secret den
when will the covid brain enlighten the jesus loving barracks where soldiers kneel to die?
as a dry gin for the captains wig disembowels the flavours of uncontroled stock
where flocks the hibernating geese into the valley of deaths deserted sorrow
with a stiffled marrow clawing at my billboards cuckold paint;
the devil with a chainsaw
dancing in the arms with a farmers bull on the belly of a blue vein cheese
scratches my knees as I hatchet his back.
stand to attention and I will grieve the loss of your second hand haversack;
backpack and silver pills
the spills of a cold war enhanced with a chance of superiority;
a forearm smash
cash in the arctic attic of endangered epilogue
feeds off the smog and the fuel of a jitterbug jive.
survival of the bitter butternut squash
relies only on the murder of a pancreas eye;
buttered scones with a biscuit with my penguin soup
were setting sail, to a place on a map from where no-one will ever return;