Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Panic Webbing, from the 'PTSD notebooks'



Panic Webbing







In a forest of decimals thinly

All alcoves and animals play

I'm browsing but you're plotting

There lives a dot to another's pay




Try me. The home entertainment sutured

To hewn lunacy. You never wonder

Where the smudges on my glasses might go

They thrive and dine in the milk made handle




Thinking's day as separate as it is cold

Today, peevish peaches rumoured away

Dry as in some weedy bedding sundowned

Flagon that and try a discount window

Well-written like welding to a point nerve

The hawk's lost in plastic and dinner's served

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