14 October 2009


Rustication (10/14)

The hills are piled blankets are broken teeth
The hills are piled of broken teeth on messed blankets

Grass is fluxing in the wind is a steady green smile
Grass is a steady smile fluxing happily and menacing

A shack a hovel a log cabin
leans into the wind mostly managing to stay upright

The periods between gusts is enough for mice to remake
Enough time for a baby to be born and grow to have children

Where the rock lays bare everything goes quiet
A sudden upturn in the weather turns to storm at sea

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