skull-dug in dungarees
two hours long.
the longest wait
the smile that couldn\'t see
the melting mouths of pseudonym
as broad as day
spinning with the barnacles of crouch
head strong and buckled
lean as mustard,
empowered in a shawl
of flower-beds
from here to someplace else
creeping with a fruit-fly
alone and single
longing for a bootlace on a chest
that twists and turns
burns twilight hours
deeper than the vein from wilderness.
adopted as a stray
in my carboard cut-out suit of camel-skin
that blinked beneath the naked mask of sand
when cup in hand
last supper came and went
nineth parallel to here
skull-dug in dungarees
two hours long
the longest wait
the smile that couldn\'t see;