I felt this created a real sense of menace, Roger. While I liked the
arresting imagery and too the rhythmic kick of the final line.
best
David
On 10 November 2013 19:52, Roger Day <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> The world fails to fall into place
> cats growl and grumble as if winged mice
> have taken over yew-trees and graveyards
>
> Reaching a clawed hand into the dream
> a blue cacophony reels and roils
> before a dark key, a shining spitfire
>
> Clouds bleed memories and a faint malice
> I have no aforethought, there are no crutches
> on the way to the isle in the lake
>
> bring me a sword, a plane saw, a monkey-wrench
> the fixings have yet to begin
> an aero-engines pleasure spins desire
>
> windy hyperbole yet succinct
>
> wonders, a stars ellipse, a heart wrapped
> in a clock and set to explode at 9.30am
> on a sunny day: the weasels wrestle the stoats
>
> edging the crevice, testing the flattened air
>
--
David Joseph Bircumshaw
Website and A Chide's Alphabet
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