Between The Clocks When Once A Temper Chimed:

between the clocks when once a temper chimed

child of the tallest thorn in startled pose

dined with damaged weeds in pots of turtles eyes

cold hands in seaweed shrine

baptized in apples blood beside a rivers broken jaw;

a midnight wind of crooked stars above all of nothing new

blows the seedless shrinking skin to shores of stranded minds

where the hibernating mothers

steeped in sorrows tea in cloudless graves of tortured wine

sleeps with orions belt around the necks of flaunting flowers;

dead end streets in seas of circumcised limbs with gravy stained lips

pander to the populous city of arthritic frost

as limps the shepherds mistress with the pregnant queen of spades

as digs the paws of artic fox

beneath the suckled breast of the acrylic matador;

between the clocks where now a temper swings

child of the tallest thorn in startled pose

swims through the swollen glands of tented screams

with her snow white teeth and perfumed gelatine;