The impurity of white captured yesternight
has left one puny fireworks worth ashes.
The smoldered spine of the pyro-pleasure
lies lifeless in the street.
We search for more, albeit it was not a trail
to find the magical land of all gone,
burnt, like the files of secret.
Still embracing the braces,
my brother calibrates steps,
“I can no longer stoop.
If an object infests my imagination,
you pick it.”
The winter has air in its belly.
White diarrhoea runs as far as we can see.
A school bus crawls amongst the drowned.
Illustration Nick Victor
Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’, ‘A Place For Your Ghost Animals, Understanding The Neighborhood’, ‘Scratches Within’, ‘Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems’, ‘Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems’ and now ‘Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel’ (Alien Buddha Press)