your unit
preys upon itself
sun-rested
perfection is
so to
the heath
a little honour
housing bare
by keeping the
extruded retina
of us on the surface,
the drawn in
coppice means nothing
in the face
of bitter metal,
as I am petrified
to the garden,
to air
a scarcity ash
of damaged masses
outside the meal
tickets wasted in
full-time,
my glandular
is static
is static
and bone stands
to harsh
ceilings pitch
everything in action
replay
against
overdrive shrinking
the oneway
open windows
to its false
channel is
sweetness
escaped through
itself above
the heel,
there is nothing
like justice
and it hangs
someone else
for day to
be day