Thursday, 25 December 2014


Even in Arcadia, there I am a dead man who looks as I do

Images of gory rituals swirling in the majesty of buttercups 

Conducting mimics in the sunshine's betrayal 

Peaks and troughs never stopping never thinking 

Beneath water again and over but in full view 

Praemonitus, praemunitus, of course
 of course. 

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