It stands but doesn't move

it stands but doesn't move.

were it to move would I love it any more?

a lump of congealed moussaka

the other side of jelly.

a heart that wouldn't pump a liver dry.

praise be to the one in his coat and tails

if all else fails, blink once the talisman.

your lucky charm came locked with no preserve.

there was no way out,

all key's lead flowers permanently ill.

the long haul days brought laughing gas a stitch.

not once did the shortest day of landscape roll

from toll booth to the long arch of a foot.

it was the killers touch of perfume on the wheel

turning clock-wise west on an even keel

that drove us mad and plucked our laundry dry.