The hour strikes and you strike

         back a feathery blankness pre-Socratic

                mean sets up a fervor specked with

      broken elements, waking to the heat

      and driving hither air and       you particulate

             the more like license of a congregation giving

                  itself an audience     giving starry

                  bodies flashing on her head

          that vent or gain conversion to

                  cessation made a ruse of pastoral
        The observer stands in front of living loops

                      enhancement, aft of public stripping

                      further to a child’s order

         inside out, a Circuit of the Mind becomes

                                monumental in the cardiac sense

                you swallow the Museum the day’s

                   cavernous architect enfolding

                        the night we count invincible, as

              in we swallowed continuously and naturally

                    sliced through, translate
                       you’ll end the weekends of your castle hands

                 moving your cultural life through earth

                      unaware as water          on the floor approaches

                   rivulets translating red divides

                        the cave between a contact troupe

                  committed to a hall, entering in terms of

                    collage, hermosos hijos smiling in small loops

           with an accent pretty city

                        ochre talking through the caves they meet

         the red hands touching on the walls across the long walks

          through protective stone you are providence to a fable

                      later made of teargas     blown across the vowels

                  kindly, very nice
       Turning fell to     a machine, your body

        swerves its balance inside shoes

     in which we understand the peeled-out inhibitions of

           comparatives blind history

        waste arrivals only pelt the beautiful children

                       part the legs continuously performing axis

              past the jacket a community gave

                         to get it fixed, burn on the design
            stippled in text the bred reeds make

               the images of sky fall down

               the city as she walks to get

        the famous bakery items crumbling in her mouth

                she’s folding another     country further asked

           for body ankles and the touch

                  stones fresh positions for the hair

            finger scales in excess      proven instruments

         gently take on kitchen splashbacks Wathaurong

         Glass and stories, we’re really trying

             feedback for a mock trial of witnesses

                 none of whom can be said to have seen