The millipede of furious minds who concocts all steel sternumed glass,

imagines the heart of what they make, all ruse & rooms of ruby ventricled chandeliers.

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.