Gallous

cleverly arranged lightning,
three little pockets of bird
hanging from it,
exceedingly beautiful in
their wait

for closed sound shurikens
inside bricks inside
pylons that hold up the bridges
who wait

as people in pairs of socks
(sliding doors
opening out as sockets)
tremor,
their lip friction
shaking the suspenders/

before they can know;
a tumble
takes a shadow,
napes it to the wiring
for the beaks to come pick at
to undo (fervently)
the knots in the absence 
of light.

Cool Detachment

Herewhere
started with a shout of bright
thenthereweres.
Tomorrow is a Sunday out of the Bi
ble
and men's ends are going to
press on pews
dividing up duty in to
concerns caught in
cried-out candlesticks
clenched.

clenched paper droughts,
this is. even though
ink connects seas to mouths,
the fingerdrift that traces
through continents is mis
sing

.turns
 

seeeye

i'm to read
but i, these words
make up a lick
i read between my fingers.

if all i do is to participate,
this is be.

for
those
words

a cocoon with no ends
you weave a fibre/somehow

it
there

castle walls
many-roomed
keyholes to
language, my lockpick
to learn

you
take
the footsteps I shadow
trace a living
climbing angles

Who Counts

you are sneezing through your hands,
twelve minutes past just over 300 degrees

you head, no-necked man
on the sit
ticking to the rain inside
purple meads
lego blocks crowding rooftops,
lonely attachments

fingerless man,
holding the feeling of just then
museumed
for the privileged
few who pay their fees
with footsteps through second
hand-me-downs

look at the wallpaper rocks
decide there are violins. et
you have a metronome

We Call it earth

The eyes
in curved glass containers
under-roofed
closer to birding.

The mouth
a faraway topiary
for a gnome small enough to
wicker through.

The eyes are far from the mouth
like the dangling pair of feet
over
incredibly too much soil.

Sew me a Machine

signs from a heap,
chords around typewriters
I sit here lilypad;
take a jump and sprocket 
into places that aren't yet wistful:
unyet made
with unyet made bed frames
and unyet made wallpaper
inspiring unyet breathed out 
gaseous humanities,
us planets made of toads
and organised socketry.

shake your hands,
I'm with gravity
I might take up storey buildings
and day over to mendicancy
in frames remindent of 
somewhere you can knock
to hear an echo.