029: Levers & cogs

Drink away the night hours

in fume fried brick bowels

and sing to mend an aching back

and a staggering dream path,

with the drained withstanding

of plastic film marked,

waxwork heartsease kicked in the groin.

How long can this conversation wander

before the fracture erupts

and the slimming seams can't hold out

the shimmering rain any longer?

How quick can I spin this bottle

to match the revolution of a silver barrel

sporting five vacancies?

Still mooring of sultry arms

stripped by morning blades,

a free ticket to the house of exile;

rebuked bill sticks to my neck, ink ingrained,

as I roll the boulder uphill,

the ticking haunts, unfading,

the noise of the world.

Condoned in cardiac entrapment,

lung wrestling and touch duels,

within gene strands, smoke grappling calisthenics.

Yet, should the burning wheel retort

I'll burgeon my spider legs, I know,

to stride the glass divide,

fleet-footed slip to the other side.