Stream of Consciousness

Clover, dover, sackcloth, stuff of dreams,

docks, shipping forecast, does anyone sail - anymore?

Been numb so long, heartbreak does that to you

and to I

and to us all

a pinprick doesn’t hurt when you lie down flat

look at the ceiling and count,

talk about sherbet lemons and other things

that fizz on the tongue

slits and slices and pointed and thick and thin -

the wanted and the unwanted

and back to the dreams, because it isn’t the end or the beginning

it’s a combination of all the fox-fur

and shrubs and moulted leaves that cover pathways

making it hard for wheels to pass -

these things must be lifted and carried to drier ground

where the sun isn’t shaded by sandstone blocks.