a run of light chases birds in the sky
feathers fledged in auburn tree
flee

the heat of olive green spaces
above red dirt lures them home
from

home still baring berries and
scurry of life heads up counting
dots in front of
porch lights

hit hard switch back
metal hidden in
flesh.

hooked.

the rush up
into another world.
the
slow gag .

tears never
dissolve
enough oxygen

scraping away tack
marks of your photos
leaves
black on my fingers .

like old newspapers .

something of
yesterday
marking today
to
mess up tomorrow .

Loop one or loop all.

standing in the crowd
of the heads bowed

traffic on roads
on pavement a
repeat of beats
and neat lines

another another
all the same
suicidally lame

sick of the roll
and fume
of humdrum

I roll down
alleys and
by ways to
sea shore

a hush a scree
of sea over shingle
waves roll in single
one after the other
undoing bothers

a lulling repeat
of sky; breath
and heartbeat

more of the same
to lighten mundane

whorl and pool. pale

light circulate around

lamps to build a world

between

the black buildings


street streaked,blacker,
by tar macadam
are flavour made as lit
- whole oranges
and, modern blasts of blue
white fruits.


blobs both.


Old black thick oil
bitumen based rock.
lighter the other.
made of energy
bouncing into
eyes as a scene.


division is round
at edge of energy
and straight painted
line. demarcation:
my side your side
for vehicles and,
kiddies games.


by day this place is singularly lit

and shadows are directed

one way

but now under street-lights

the shadows play

cup me in some sweet condolences
leave me dusted in saccharin
after honey licks

there on your lips
autumn burst fruits
and
bruises

my blush of knowing
too much
my rush of tasting
enough
to be hooked on your liqueur

lips. granulated resistance
spent.
echo.
fullness empties,
echo.
post
coitus tristesse,
echo

sugar the fruits'
echo

dust the dark with
product.
the ash of
forest fires

wood.
never so vital
as when the wet
tips rise
through the
dark mat.

a making of trees.

limbs made a
nest
a place of
passion
passages
gorged by fingers
and tongues
lingam taught
against swollen
cells.

falling trunks
felled beings
alight
all
night