Anti Fasti



First affray yields up a brutal piece of string

meagre garner Erik Bloodaxe blows

over deep purple fog occludes

cursed ashtrays drip

full of tat & vine

notes: wheelbarrow spring to repair,

astro lingo  turns down the bingo

wrong sort of sleep on the tracks

one of them funny old facts

doing all the right things slant

attend mutters of great importance

perfume of torched digestives

let there be…



light at eight today

just up after tunnelling

a pleasant surprise

waiting there when I emerged

covered in gold dust

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