all over the coverlets pixies
are dancing
have we woken into a new world
so suddenly? look again
feel the needles dig into that
this is the same world
tilted through dark loam
where dogs on Sunday and mad packs
of illegal smokes through the catwoods
[ska ska not ska]
smoked through rivers but not
like this, like this
with her hands in your hair
all the air says things the air
has no rest for, which
the window the darkness
the white lawn of a bed
without
is this now illness or just
some prophecy
always upwards? over the snow-
staggering blue giants
coming on, coming on
air-lit other forever bluebell waft
harebell garlic down now down
flying like eider ever-down
.
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