And you're not even above ground
Grop
Fringo fringe on the disturbance channel
Yelling about the environment angle
Bitches lie, he cries
But the psychotherapy breaches the scheme
Hellhound school room teaches the dream
Uncanny is the hand that twiddles the strings
Three fingers and two thumbs, isn’t Darwin mean?
Omnibus
Starch your collar honey
Your plate arrives at sunset
They’re crumple you
Stuff you down their shirt
Test you, tear you, lick and nibble on your edge
Steele your fibres and call upon your frame
Raised on wood, raising Cain
When the landfills spill out onto the main
Sugar, it won’t be you to blame
Crossroad
Escaping life
Canoeing down river yonder
I come across a split path
And question my way forward
Looking up to the dead ash tree
Cormorants lining its branches
I ask the malignant ensemble
“Where will I get along?”
An archaic glare marks no response
And the dead ash rises
Roots spreading, sprouting
Gloom crown of basal roots rise around the water
I sit planted
Sedated by blackened eyes
Of fowl
Fowl glaring atop arisen ashy peaks
I let the crisis scene lay
Paddling with fervour and zeal
Away rather than towards
Staring at the dead tree all the same
Further ahead, the water’s wake flattens
And the cormorants’ screech echoes
They fly overhead
My river rejoining one previously lost
Lost to opportunity
Lost to thought time
Out the Door
Watched a late night movie
As the neighbours lost all of their dogs
“I don’t want to be free”
Said the squirrel to his tree
As his nuts rained all over the floor
Sweater weather
It’ll all work out
Like a faded stain that you just kept wearing and washing anyways
Beaubon
After a night at the party
Take the mysterious trip to hall seven
To the sky
Not yet having the strength to play the fool
But with humility to know you’ll never make the promised land
Step out and realise the sky is a hollow dome
Not to be flattened by your night rites.
Yet the elevator goes up.
In trial, Steffen
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