The millipede of furious minds
who concocts all steel sternumed glass,
imagines the heart of what they make,
all ruse & rooms of ruby ventricled
Along the rear of this vertical frontier: tents
& oil spilt ponds, a jungle of bloomers
hangs on tiers of stocking string.
An opera singer, once in tiger’s masque,
keens which echoes deep in the well
of his welder’s mask.
A young boy dreams of mums.