Chicks out of season
Scamper subtle fear
Creation torn up
Jagged and exact
Mud and green beaten
Senselessly into
Concrete submission
For the pleasure of
No honey-like dust
Being dragged over
Woven corridors
Void sovereign feeling
Imprisoned stare blank
Distrust unerring
Greed and Ambition
Little boxed in hills
Animate in guilt
Projected from those
Who like to point out
'Look, look its something'