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Countdown To Clone Day, Rubbish Writing

Granules of recollection rub like salt 
Flailing in the fog of seven years ago
Deafened by incessant frog cries
Vines dangling began attaching to each other 
Drying river stagnated, slime slippery with algae 
Vigorous tree growth stooped in defeat
Muddy river banks fixed my feet, prisoners
Quick sand sapped my energy, ate my memories 

Spears of bygone javelin my lungs, make gasp
Emerging from the mist of six years ago
Mountain side incredibly steep left me breathless
Static crinkle hissed between my eardrums 
Channels flip changed without my inference 
Hard luck hollowing trunks of high altitude 
Offered to swallow my past, kindly include present

Flattened cushions of childhood fights , bring distance
Spinning cartwheels into oblivion of five years ago
Faintly flickering home movies startle between grins 
Marbled images depict how we were, junctions punctured
Paths deviated, split decisions, moments distilled
Bottles broken, options poured, down the sink

Faltering swell glimmers foaming overdrawn fantasies
Slices rewound reflect fleeting of four years ago
Head barely above, awash in nonsense, victim of tides
Pushed under and pulled above, or is it more apt 
the other way 'round, heavy, ocean surrounds drowns

Pencil case zipper obediently conceals, shoved down
Fragmented fragrant shavings of three years ago 
Greyed erasers took too much, left the wrong stuff
Coloured stubs refuse to function, shrink upon prompting

Mirror tells me glamour remains against toughest test
High eyebrows, pristine lip lustre of two years ago 
Marilyn wink in the blink of camera, busy filtering truth

Tree hugging  Boho took over, appealed to populus ideal 
Cocaine sand between toasted toes, garland encircling forehead

Currently I'm languishing in roses

bestowed by crown of thorns
    
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Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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