markbousfield

THE GUTTER FLEET

Walking the gutter fleet with
the baulk of light in a badge dug out of the weeds

acerbic

the pin of dreams
lapelled
rusted and rent

like the fern leaf to the AID of mothers
worn woozily in the breakers
with yesterdays kite torn asunder the gale winds
wrapped on the damn
a car mill

stone fingertips tracing crooked spines
needle injects
acu-punk

sold

saliva drip trays allayed
into non-breathing sleeps
desperate lonesome teachers
in tears
courting fashion
like blisters in bulbs

dug out of the bed of weeds