One silky spring day
in my bare memories
presents few fine crows
perched on light picket posts.


Gilded yet dark,
the birds spoke in shrills.
Had I looked away,
my mind be pure filth.


An orchestra,
all for me.
The hills swayed,
much with the trees.


But time's no fool,
the sky grew death.
A jolt of light,
a new scene set.


How quick it turned,
the blue gone too soon.
But on they went,
with transient tunes.

Yet, after not too long,



The bluster chewed land.
I woke from my glance.



The troupe had no disband.
I feared them with no chance.



Then,

A pale strike it was,
all I can remember.

It slammed its poor body,
so tough, so impishly,
how rough, how inimically.

Its feathers flew,
desperate to escape frightful peace.
Its beak dove down,
an Olympic performance to cease.

And so,
it flew right deep into tender ground.

And what's left of bitter sound,
is all to be ever seen,

yet never found.

Perhaps the two most off
putting words, of which
I'm inimically suspicious.

Aborigines had no word
for free because they were,
until the white man came.

But free as in less than cheap
is even a lower than low cost.
Ryan Air don't even do this.

Government vaccinations
for Covid-19 are gratuitous.
So, there's got to be a catch?

See if the first was fear
Until that last was supermarket beer
The buttress is golems and frights and fomentation in lacey tights
Body lowers as girth widens
but that's physics
only spiritually
it will always be
the other way round inimically 'apprise them'
As standing tall is subterfuge
And as time is wasting and the waist it is defying
It is all undue

& either flowery bowery butchery cynical slithery maniacal
Co eccentric-cism caught the common cohabitation
Tarnish on the door of morn and in night
Or on another day of looking at tattered floors debuted so sinister
yet book end dull receding is
Candle light
The flickers in brain wish wash and forlorned
then senses inane
and finnigan begin again
What else can one say?