Bolted junkyard
and the absenteeism
flits me winding up..
Counting the preumbra of Columba livia
on those marmalade hue of maudlin chillness..
As it commixes up onto wafting airborne:
drifting over the scattered cumulonimbus.
Far flocking flappers .
80° collateral to peeking atomic number 10.
Oh crystalline form of pure carbon..
All mighty massif .
All parallel to 180°.
99 sometimes .
69 and 36 degree.
minus the 13, it sways...
the oscillating stripes.
And the vivid blazing heap of splitting cotton-***** ..
metamorphosing into some voodoo like
Magical. magnetic. amethyst horizon
Devouring the fading dodger wide blue .
Then restoration again.
The alter coequal to dreary cawing
And these paranoiac utterance...
The phantasm.
The illusion..
and
eye..
skidding off-track the reality.
Detaining every grasp of it.