Blow my trumpet

Thy cradle has seen fit

to clasp reticent finger

around air of simplest minds

{–} inside the confines


bought tranquillity


Nights’ tendrils

and maiden’s symphonic lullaby

gave breath the quiet meaning

she so ardently sought

to transpose

And inversely compose

by the white mirror

of his lucid comprehension

(a sombre expanse:)


No provision affixes

to the glares made by unfair dismissal

of ominous hearts,

where prosperity

was the only blatant cause of concern


hushed alcove

is tugging

at a baleful continent

Imperial charm, [the aura


of a bleached sunset]


billowing winds

and effusive tribulation;

our troubles propped easily

upon elbows that caress


with cartoon momentum


like uninterrupted flames…


Lewd demand is perched haggardly

upon fingers of gnarled courtesy


is constructed

with sprawling satisfaction.


~ ~



Did you notice

the lights

were home,

but the grown-ups

were out ? ?


Threading objectives

through the eye

of an

antiquated keyhole…


have they unfinished business?

or are they just suited

to the soundtrack

of their self-neglect?


meanwhile, meticulous envy

is propped against

the broom cupboard

Waiting for

opportunities to build

a makeshift teepee,

[unimpeachably] off-limits


and secured

in unequivocal hectares



was it just an accident?

Or did they really mean

to be so faithfully horrid,

The torrent

of five-star demand

being so-so overwhelming


champagne barricades

For those gaping feelings

we found unfashionable


Protection is safe—

but not always biodegradable.


~ ~



Scenes in the darkened

foreground, like so:


Sooty visitors leaning over

the lovers’ Balcony,

contesting an extraordinary deck

that extends for miles

and miles, reducing to

kilometric centimetres

Am I confusing your function?


raise the quotient

to superscript,

I’m the power of four—

even with one crucial component


clip-on thumb [flanking]

broken index finger,

subtract the common-jointed wrist


Obligations find my skinny pencil

immortalised in

gargantuan manifestations,

stocked up on luxurious carat


They won’t find me

canvassing for

the insoluble mathematician,

I’ve finished the pictures in

my three-tiered application


Call now the gofer—get him to

wrangle more staples

from the centrefold


Bona fide furnishings stand out,

because they sat me behind barbed-wire

until I could articulate

proper drawing;


[no fixtures]

no pastel

Just bold exploits.