Having just woke up and
lit a smoke up
I'm going to take up
knitting.

I'm spitting cobs here
because of that fear and
that fear being,
the wings of the night that beat me into
submission, to commission me into the
army of the impossible
into improbable situations.

The four horsemen and the creation
of dark dreams,
screams in the closing of eye dreams.
The racing of headlights and dipped beams
and the sound of a carriage.

A marriage of mind and mayhem where
the phlegm of the soul plays a role on the
boards with the devil and his hordes.

I'm taking up knitting and I'm going
to knit me a shawl
then I shall wrap myself in it and
when the wings beat against me,
it will be
my defence against
the night and
the enemy.
and the dreams
that haunt me.