An exquisite (ish) corpse experiment conducted over the period of a week, earlier this year, writing unedited what popped into my head admittedly with prior knowledge of the line preceding  but never letting that force me down a certain narrative route

where there are fish you will often find bicycles

(in six days god did what?)

sunDAY 1

save the shamen monkey for a cleaner time

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as the dew dropped tulip two-steps over my tongue

so a pubic slaughter of moonbeams and drag queens

leaves so little space in-between the longing

hung, low slung, below the eaves of this curious abode

where pregnant questions await the gaunt relief

of a crucified thief who has chosen his flavour

so sure the house has fallen on the queen of the east

love thy nei...

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