The blistering freezing smashing dawn
Cutting through the misshapen woodland
The tension can be as heavy
As the labourer with coal laden blood
His high five start is never overworked
He knows his philosophy
The gathers velocity pumping, pumping –
The streets race by even when sitting alone
In the corner café
The girls’ laughter massage’s the raw rashed mind
For a moment.
The infestation that is ‘The Friday night’
Coincidentally crash in my Friday night high
The strange jockey the drives the whip
of the horse within the energy
Must expire it must –like some character
In a sci-fi story I fall and fall and sleep washed
Me up on another shore on the other side
Until, until, until lightning strikes. Again!
The wind has dropped
The sea is absolutely still.