Rat Shack

grey outside today side of the
fence side of trench-passages
of which side of the lens depends on

seeing, who flexes, indents, disguises, perhaps applies for
arises and sends off to dawn-trot a loud-speaker reason-feeder
features of bird-beak to treat-tricksters bent on hell’s-plot, sign-spinning

do good-doers amongst kind-folk who find friends in fun-places, star-struck,
grown ups, ground-down or ground-out potlucks, lopsided-networks
move off, march on, move out, send to escort hot-pots to do dirty work

for motives for the not-for-sure-sure who dwell in dirty warts who ward-off morph
fondly finding lonely places inhabited by their own devious landscapes, twin-piles of puss-rock, smell of horse-gut-rot, smog rises from those piles of trot-trot providing

a vile context for miles of time’s-worm taped to the one and only mouse-trap a tick sucks out a house-nap mountains’ maid of now-laugh containing vows for round-about passports


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