Boatswain’s Version

by grimbeau



post birthday thaumaturge loves labours added semi detached wrappers to history’s bulky bucket
a bin you find that never gets filled
in plastic night it coughs and splutters
sat scribbling blind in a barebones gutter
memorising lyrics for literate milkmen
on event horizons
everything swims past
truth speaks unto power masterclass

abnormal service is exhumed eventually after digging up  relics found in history’s              bulky bucket                                                                                                                                            so glad to hang around to see
do not try to walk now little mother
soldier on like a good egg
until you can run as far as your legs can carry you
hep cats conspire to inhale incandescent
frankincense & purr
interminable pleasantries
into jasmin lime