Will Ye Nill Ye

When hole
in chest turns green,
that breathless expansive
reeling feeling –


burns & woos
panic ensues.


Impassionate leanings
so weighted percussive –


held captive by methods
lugubrious & eruptive.


Swinging swinging
high on the hive


as sticky winds mill
saints alive –


Devious freedoms
all skip to the loops –


luminous bedbugs
traffickers, snoops ?


Beauty’s rogue economy
truth-or-dare –


riot gear revolutionaries
hands up! I swear!

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