Life Askew, Enamoured

The boundary holds firm

a line of brush and cracking steel

that bats the sunshine

into your eyes and mine

savage terrain, never famished,

rises into the pendulous mists of

dawn and the cawing of

undead vultures; necks taught,

wrought hard with the

selfish endeavour to

sweep the flesh aside

pockets swell; bulbous as though

fornicating in thorny doldrums

to us, unseen

bugs tick and the sun

beckons a flat, hard heat

that does nothing but

burn and set all

ablaze; the cold, hard orange

of life through curious, sideways



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