Cloudy cotton puffs
are jagged blackholes
in ripply oceans
Logs of wood burn and burn,
crisply heating air around them;
flicking ferocious ember churn,
combusting oxygen to flame.
once consumed, dead they lie:
logs still framed in loggy cast.
coloured now in gangrene grey;
lift them up, ash drifts and wafts.
Cigar shaped entity
that entered and exited
our solar system
are you in fact
an artifact
from another galaxy
In one "back to the future", two thousand fifteen
hoverboards seemed propelled by a gale
It's now two thousand seventeen, such hoverboard unseen
All for the want of a nail.
Razor sharp dune edges
Support the dune buggy I'm in
Which is speeding
while hugging
the changing
dune patterns, sinuously
shifting with the wind
blue of sky and green of land
floating plans or dancing reel
mixed by faerie dusted hand:
jeweled, glowing, flowing, teal
Bathed in odiferous slickly slimed drains
Aspiration lowbrow through slytherin brains
Sibilance parseltonguing itself via plaster
Inside and without channelling disaster
Lengthy both in body and years
Insinuated in hollows and unwitting tears
Soulless soul horcrux bearing
Killed by one almost unfearing
pushing turnstiles
climbing steeples
viewing airfields
pulleys draw me higher
microorganisms lining intestine.
antiinflammatory army multiplying.
mind and body thriving.
I dive from blazing elevations
where fiery furnace
laser liquifies my icy core
and I flow, flow, flow