(The Fog)

Obnubilation as the synapses cease fire 

Grey eyed and soggysloppy.

Water soluable slide to

someplace remote enough to

hide the echo.

Considerate deliberation sings her song,

not contrite admiration.

Seconds and thirds,

pushes and pulled through the kaleidoscope.
Fractal forgery, trapped lemmings on cliffs.

Seaside dive seems so sweet but for the breath of air

stolen at the pause to commit.


The man with the baby skin

weave a lie so deep

oceans cease to

drain the sands from the vision.

He tell you ya gonna be a star and then

sinks and slays your spirit so sweet

seeking not to supply the sickness with the solemness.


Big mouth secret sickness say over and over how ya gonna be somebody but...