the rain sways me like a
hymn - some freestyle
jazz drumming melody.

sleepdrunk and riddled
with the thing between
the blinks;

                  boneneedled,
it knits me some axonic
skiprope fuckyou prize.

hanging out my mind doesn't begin
to describe it! but despite my alcohol
induced hubris the sun has made its
february debut and the birdsong is
married to laughter - who put
the pathetic next to fallacy?
balloon-headed we spoke over
coffee & a pint, putting family to
rights and friends in a bubble. the
world doesn't often show itself, and i
mean truly show itself - pixie-ringed
and kitten-eyed - but today you
teased it out with little more than
the breath between your words.
look at that, i feel better already.

two maybe three times a day the
wave
crashes on the surfer but he's
ready
he's seen the tide he's breathed
it
he's drank it and got it all bubbled
up
in his stomach like me with two
feet
on dry land but at least he's in
halfpipe
dreamland dancing the earthtime
groove
at least he knows what he's in
for
i'll just slalom down this beach
in
my petty thematic way and i'll
kick
over the sandcastles in protest
of
this prima nocta glassdust.