The Shaping Forecast
…& more sleep.
Got stuck in slough slow bowls,
a stray sky blue smurf sought my company;
fleeting scalpel sunshaft burst
fairly snapped me out.
Make decisions for soul provisions – finance pimples as ever.
Monday’s food is Sunday’s mood.
Trying to loosen, and keep loose,
neck and shoulders.
Right arm troubled.
Go with the pain, pleads the pain.
No dreams just fleeting night moods, wafts,
misted fiats coloured
greyblue, greenish, mushy.
Sea White
see-through shadows
Ectofilmstars;
uncast off, harboured beyond sleep,
half-waked.
Bay low voices mumble, whisper:
Get up and water the source
