ThroughthinkinglessforothersIstartedthinkingmoreaboutme

I've been making honey scribbles

Under a Oblas dog pawed towel

I have the echoing cauliflowers again

The top building has an inferno

The bottom half, I confess

Is nothing but icy and pale.

This throbbing hot air balloon

The trachea’s Friday morning razors

Discharging pyrotechnics settle

On a spread of lined tissues

Whilst all meters are drained

Each arrow points down

To focally strained lasers.

I’ve been busy snuffling up the world

The swollen passageway of word

This structure is achingly shivering

As it waits too long in reception

Making mammoth goblets

From the cloudy trunk

Of frothy lemon curd.

I tried to explain the situation

But how would they know?

This little bumptious boiled egg

Threw me on guilt trip

Over a cracked record

Took everything out of portion

Acted too fuelled on bravado.

But these days of cold are lifting

The two silhouettes are back in range

Why not go out and salt the slugs?

Because the fifteen minutes will come

Hear the last laugh in the parlour

I found obtaining accountability strange..

© Daniel North