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Mar 2011
i
so
me t
imes
see in
those t
ranspar
ent eaves
the quick b
lack forest
of the panele
ss leaves the h
ithering blata
nt brains scurry
to and fro and fro a
nd too" their marki
ng frailing whizzin
g forth to which heaven
gabled songs the limp s
aints court and snuggle
gregariously the foiste
d girth of the black quick t
rees in there in their unrem
arkably souls i,ve watched t
hem go back and forth and forth
and black lithe brooding reams
of slow wood in them, there their
  i'm starting to wear wear wearing
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
1.1k
   --- and Nina McNally
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