The day's evil ends, county of soft air and airport bars
where dog's hair slogs out the horoscope
floats atween logic
nor the Other View

for-why he heng hys hed adoun to have
such sorwe and not be ded

Looking Around Wildly, don't be fooled where it ends
nor where the separations begin again, leaves
bending shadow reach out &
lose the waterways, dream pages of doubt and fertility

Doesn't look good, another ‘beware the charms'
wave of mud, zip-drive
waiting for restart &
shafts of moonlight

as if there are two drives large as a man, hurtling and cursing
The Bullshit Artist
slips back to alterity & craving
the brilliant reply, tornados appraising
that was the open door! the poor love
hidden for Years as she flies off
once or twice
before the killing sheds.