The Man Child

With all the pomp and viscosity The spectres flooding out a sepia Screen of childish scribbles Bleached into the paintwork Autograph collections full of Unknown people who achieve Little seldom of and incomplete Thereof from another Kings' Cross Day passes with slurry flood A thick crude oil slick settling On the fester where love is love But life always gets cat called trapped Between a rockery and a conservatory Greenhouse blossom stuck Never growing, wilting into Shoes and stirrups, the Valkyrie Tide of blonde candlesticks burning An empathetic subtitle in the Bunting of promenade pretence The man child turns to jump Into canvas blues of money under pillow