angst cycle (iii) — [Ƽ] (i)

with the pace of close hills
trees rough low
tops the profile of cauliflower heads
low white this cloud line
against a distant darker bluegrey

then

a low cut
sometime à la mode
fringe
looking out from under

then

a pastry funnel
ten mile away
coming down from the bluegrey raincloud
for a moment i though weather disaster
but it’s industry steam

then

well fuck me
an anus

then

a tear of metal blue
it’s the real
a white hammer in

didn’t know
whether to expect
the sickle
or the anvil

got the finger

then

coffee
chunnel
dark

then

golden bitter
death metal
that’s why i know
i’ll be back to live
presuming

then

you can tell
i want to close
this damn sequence down
can’t you

ancient front