The Shrunken Art 

Hard flung across the floor

The windows casement loosened  strange

Swooning red faces just waking in a dislocated trance

Of the Anthropocene, what can be seen that’s not a bus ride, snap all ties crumple place in the waste

With the soaking shrewd old lanes, bridleways ley ways, lay waste

The promise of some wine cowering in the corner

Air sucked out how so?

Will lurk and linger long after this tragic history is just a distant memory

Images of space and time provide help understanding smaller notebooks

The marquee glows purple at night and throbs with Talmudic proclamations

We drive around through spectral forests

The car weaves through ghost ways of aquatic drapery

It’s fun to laugh at death across rain soaked boulevards

To run the car into rubble canyons

We drive around past the abandoned library

Its low level architecture ensconced in bougainvillea roughly cobwebbed you can just make out the

Abandoned carousel.

Let us sing of land and dirt

Of generous days and nights of solid sleep

Of thoughts untangled from the weeds like exploding lakes

Quivering