• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 04
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At night time when dimensions shift,
the rules lie ruined, paradigm,
collage or is it collagen,
main body parts that no one sees.

The clouds I know are solid ground
but, are they slabs now climbing sky,
poor cuneiform and glitter spray,
puddles, gold-leaf, shopping bag,
imagined, upturned go-cart wheel,
pram before the c was k.

Impressionism here to stay,
chop-logic as the bard would say,
but what is it, uneasy mind,
that wants to leave those fears behind?
Repeat performance, frequent steer,
if only I could leave the mare,
where cumulus predictable,
and settle into daily round.