shatter

(I self-published a book of 201 poems and this was the titile poem, written March 2020, before the world went mad)

i find a wilderness walk
the size of a steam nozzle,
spurious in the extreme
 of halting breath,
 a beneficial but moaning discovery,
yes, my church is a type
that few can accept,
zonked as i am
 in the frame of your control,
indeed direful,
 & a less meaning ghost,
i toss my bright
& habitual coat
for the thrill of the
land vessel that scours
the earth lizards
like the police
of the clothes rail,
 aromatic apples
 shatter
new worlds