I was yours to be seen, yet I put out my eyes. Blind and unclean smoke ghosts drift across widescreen flickering scenes I despise. I was yours to be seen on the high street between mannequins and the beggar’s sunrise. Blind and unclean on moonshine runs, as amphetamine blurred visions catalyse. I was yours to…

Morning Haiku – 4

Stooping to hear King’s mumbled excuse for Sun’s crown blinding hunter’s scope. Inspired by the Song “Chattermachines” by Arc Iris.