i write what i see, i encode images with sounds...
hence my simple life,
and the complications of speaking as noted
and the complicated life around me as unsaid.

so fragile - poetry so ably juggling
paedophilia and an identity -
i could almost leave a snarl and a gimmicky
phlegm in it ~ ᛞᚨᚻᚨᚱᚷᚨ'ᚻ... ᚢᚾ!
the Arab wishes his were Rune.

i own a cat unafraid of a thunderstorm, that's enough
for a C.V. where i come from -
but where this writing comes from it's unlike
thus stated -
it's probably a thoroughly read *lord of the rings
rather than an unread book readied for
cinematography - because that's were books end up,
in a pile of wished-up "page-turners" of charity shops
turned into blockbusters of Hollywood
for a timescale of kept blisters;
or nothing at all, and best kept admired like
cheesy pop songs you'd play at your wedding disco
to imagine yourself being undressed
and hence dancing on stilts via woman
and in stilettos via man.