The bat-faced yellow

queen of ****** pleasure:


her razor-sharp mouth.

Only when you're old

do you know: it doesn't matter --


if you're postponing.

Old sore praises it-

self for its best intentions --


Own glory comes first.

Rustling lanes, winding roads
the rippling on the bank
of the path along the river

wherever the land is not buried
under city, I walk my days
in the smell of rotting

Mushrooms, spider webs
birds in the undergrowth
and dearest to me are the wild
flowers, thistles, chicory
pink anemones and poppies

I admire the gaunt, the sallow
the beauty under
the beauty of
the scars, the life
they pass on

You flow in my blood,

alive in me are your spores --


Wild Wonder flower.

The deep-sea coral

is a castle full of crowns:


shoaling princess fish.

Far too many lives

are a roller coaster ride:


beaten black and blue.