breezy nylons. repeating blue &
white circles, grey cottons for the
plasticitiy or nighttime imprint.
just all the fabrics since ever.
black as a shade all intimacy
& rarer, that sharp sitting pose
then a swaddling it’s unmapped
territory. stripes a crescendo
of formality, scarf as addendum
(an evening whisky with the laptop)
oh plus impractical shoes.
the sound of breathing sounded
lifeless, posted: the leaves, so,
gold-on-red / you know? peering
over the rental’s fence, intruder
in a plan b town, laneway puddle
hurdler. ‘never drive for groceries
again’. pathways for the wretched.
my future speculative rendered in oils:
head turned, a sci-fi vantage, image
triggers this abandoned account
backlog, 200 odd weeks back.