when goes time does the dog die?
does the inked womb begrudge and reminisce?
stand time with grief on the pegged back ilk,
or craze a craft a vessel on the curious vein?
when boiled do scallops pant or pray?
bring labours pain to the pregnant man?
skip two words a pleasure for the ear,
or deaf all arms of vegetable and wing?
four fruits of labour grouts their prison walls
on vines of chaplin lace where weaves a sin
a smothered face for the art of stutter still
when goes time does time himself sand stone?
or breathe a crocked breath to parallell his page?
cats paw or a rats tail with a village acorn twist
born with a python in each fist
on the day the typhoon came inside to play;
was ever time as humble as the mighty bumble bee?
through wizard skies does the brass band march with June?
when goes time does the dog die with the stray?
when once came time bearing gifts for the stairwell
for the trumpet of the pierced shell for the passed tense of gone
now gone protected species of the aliens supreme
now gone the webbed-feet spiders from our village jamboree
the truth is out there somewhere! so the hooded man believes;