each scratch the masked decision
empty tyre fitting bay where drunks piss on the words
equal dancing deaths circle and disappear into seedless concrete prisons-
two people in love squealing-a high pitched chant
seems borrowed from another balancing act they saw swimming beneath there dripping dreams
herds of misspent words gather on the bottom step
windows become the beach the oceans fringe
creeping through another midlife crisis
fridge light flickers -door open or door sealed
marble head stone reads publish or be damned
shall i retreat shall i be beaten
shall i hide and if i hide who can be found
and will the hidden be looking
an empty tyre fitting bay
a drunken loving shrine
space taken we all fitted in at the very end