Under the Wood

twenty five years arranged in sequence and from the east the night
is shinning clock is spinning backwards mind lurching forward and through the silence the
dawn is
pulsing black wind, wind of nerves soul not a iron soul of crisis fragile psyche impulse held
rigid grasping somnambulance - submission spoonfed deliverance assured by motion
withheld
by force, flicker awaken and leave your body the pulse has slackened from all corners the
girders are straining a dim spectre carries you forward minutes decipher eternal tremours
racing underground arise recognise advance with eager steps - hello friend sound and
parameter held in balance blue gossamer eternally focussed minute pressure splits
concentration to grasp the world - a field full of weeds i once had a frame i once held a
glimpse
i went inside the ancient place pillars of moisture mustangs delivered evening beguiling - i
forgot it all