Fantasy

You and me are poetry caressing these lines on pages coarse for gritty eyes squinting another 3AM kitsch cuckoo clock.

                Blur outwards hurtling at baseball walls grip tacky thought-borne sheets that rifle past an awkward aunty highball scorn.

                               Precarious mountain drift casual down to soul heart screaming only idle truth on patterns focused eyes respect.

                                White anointed listless longing fear darkly daggers descending in backs to warn others of haughty cure addicts.

              Pull fickle transitory thoughts from steel cages weighted down by all those things those things told you to be.

You and me are drastic wandering do-nothing bird watchers.