Screamlines:

 

 

 

There is no dreaming

only a turning around

ahead awaits the white wall of shock

where truth and facts

hang corded beliefs out to dry –

 

Oh it all comes back

this way, time is not a linear progression

but a spiral up and down;

 

in ancient caves people sat

spoke in whispers about cities so large

the world was devoured, placed their hands

in coloured earth made wet with spit and piss

marked the walls

a warning to all who follow

all who precede

beware the clocks of civilisation

they can never be sated but must

as all monsters know

grow and grow and grow

until all explodes into a desert

or flood.

 

Doves drop brittle twigs

hoping to build a forest

to hide the world from view.