PLASTIC TWIST

candle wax on the squares

like contour maps of lands 

&
cigarette ash is clumping 

in the crowns of the kings & queens

&

minibeasts hike the warped board

as per their night time routine

& 

we are dissecting the human world

its bomb fetish & dangerous solipsism 

& we get high

& mad on wine
& play chess
or kinda

garden chairs & a bar stool

corned beef & beans
plastic twist in the padlock loop

THE MENUS ARE IN CODE

i   
dream 
to 
travel in a cowards comfort
and
drink bitter coffees
in
the 
cafes of the world

to
smell the new fumes
of
the similar hatchbacks
in
its revolution squares
where
feral birds fight innocent fries
and
historys shadow is cast improbable
on
old 
stones

smoking
always 
smoking
al fresco like the rain

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