45*21

tidal waves of sound
breaking wind in a
park outside my town
I gathered some stones
in an alley way
it was very dark
illuminated by utmost nothing
we grabbed the rail
and sunk into deep nightmare
clowns grew out there
in the distant clouds
porcelain images old fantasy
it is all crazy
how we resist constants
must do with dreams
how they befuddle us
into lonely ire out
there in the tree land
we prosper in individual ointment
flies for an astray
kindergarten at the end of time