UNGUIDED TOUR

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UNGUIDED TOUR

Open meadow nightmare

brings me to my knees.

I'm dripping pyjamas 

in my sleep, hard to adhere

to those gradients.

 

The moon scuds perilous

as life, heads sagacious

to the creeping bracken land

where ferns turn faces up

 

throttle and entwine

in the silent forest domain

of sentient surfaces

 

and black dreams unfold

with some astral fear

that threatens an unguided 

tour of nocturnal edges.

 

No saviour down from his 

cross, no help at hand

the stage is clear

for swarms of sliding

new century vampires

in sheep disguise.

 

 

From COMPOSTING FOR ALL. Like a copy? See me after school.

johnbouzouki@gmail.com

 

 

◄ BISCUIT FACTORY

A NORTHERN WOMAN RECALLS HER YOUTH ►

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