They are there
hissing barracudas
always potent,
across ravaged precipices
and watery dawns -
hungry dots in jubilee
like ink splashed over lament.
Bric-a-brac
jigsaw,
solemn grains
stuffed into king worm
never to be seen again.
Into rippled subways
swallowed in earnest.
Infinite rhythms
rolling through starry meadows
as mighty hunger pains
look for a sphere bolus
to feed on
and crush -
reigned in with a stellar belt.
No time
or muscle,
no metal
or mammal
will bring dawn
to the grand gate of Supershadow.
All locked -
from dust to angels -
in boldest eternal band...
@Steven Francis 2009
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