Poncho Emergency (1/3) (unfinished/draft)

of a smart new tent

or in a state of localised impunity

push on the fence line watching you birdie

billet a wind

 like wild

grow the balcony

where we start

to count

three, two, one

sniffing courses

of the festive line

looking for the close-ups

want to watch

them eat a testicle

we are told smells of sausage

returning

to watch them on the fences

you pot that mad

dead adult 

near perfect child

impress the bunker

makes you feel that bypass

over cleared checkpoints

door re-opens

says

now this is a tracking shot