O, to arrive.

I couldn't wait for the new moon, I've been publicly outed and now I figure the best thing to do is cash in on the kind introduction to your eyes. Enjoy. XXXX

Ginger forests, a less travelled road-trip.
Five boys surrender precision shoestrings
To rioting, farceless pigs. Almost an alter,
We waded trackless and untroubled,
Ridiculous on chuck-berry verges.
Spark plugs may provoke sexual fuses
If tampered with near unlocked
Sandwich cabinets. O, to arrive.

Burnt breath in beating awe fires bullet
Bitten fingers over these new autumn days.
Ashen, dye cloaked weasels, wincing,
Expecting us to disarm our soul worn daily grime.
Place second hand newspapers, extinguished,
On reluctant marble tasting table tops.

Voluntary expulsion, cool confiding time and trauma.
I would near miss purple pincers for every bullet
Wound crowning crowed white eyes.
A matching set of luggage trawling responsibility
As if that will make grow. O, to arrive.