sheaves

The grass is growing and the happy bellies

The seasons of harvest and plenty are close at hand

The next notables are in gestation

Legacy after legacy incubating

And my friends have no use for me now

As their occupations multiply, nourished at the mortar root

The piled sheaves are depleting and these distortions are longer a happy wasteful product

Seasons have come and passed and the scripts persist

Some things fall apart, some stick and in the schism I exist

And my friends have no need of me; they never did, reclining on their porches, watching the sun set

Whilst I have so much need of them

single file sentinel

Assume the rhetoric of the Single file Sentinel

Crowd control make over Discipline punish

Paper envelopes below standard operation

Missing privacy prevents progress

Hearts bleed for the poverty of the man on the radio

Choosing to forget the wealth of those sired

Parallel Talks where the Faces Repeat

One more for the Per Diem Carousel

Single Spark through undergrowth

Release projectile Lesson Manifest

Standby Assets Stand reduced

Day by Day Plastic Pallet Hellos

Networked Isolation

Circuits Blown Switches thrown

and no escape

Tarpaulin Currency

Shipped in pale chariots

Ghostly topping up their bronze

Gold Compress Black soon Blue

And the graves stay unmarked

And the innards exhale

Orange gurney expiration

 Another round for the Laminate Crusaders

Thinking too much

Or too little

Not moved to sever the stifling cord

Symbols on thighs might signpost

The synthesis that fuses and negates

These prickly contradictions