Avoid Direct Heat
We toy-men are not mean,
can’t help it we’re afloat
in plasticine.
Tin lake with stale water I will
be free.
Climb the cardboard wall -
my thirst on a children’s
carpet, trailing flecks of my feet
green slippage that enrages
the hard, narrow god that can
ruthlessly tidy & vacuum across my tribe’s
Rama Rama panscape panoramas.
The pet flings a survey,
both dismissal & rape.
Centimetre chasms maw beneath
that
scree of cornchip crumb snow on
September Mountain.
Felix & Margaret marvels
had built an adequate truth in
wire.
Fenced in dignity we grew
bored...
free on new fibres
we fail towards life.
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