Hidden Valley

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There is a musty seed indeed,
within each individual siege,
whose season it is said-exists
within-this infinite-


My air conditioned anxiety,
is at first a sort of silent
frenzy, yet with this pressurized
approach, for choices that are
unknown, a child’s enchantment
is a gift itself from shuffling
shadows that command the fantasy
this enticement sang.


Breasts tightly pressed against
a tank top: the smiling
lines of an automobile grill.

A Gruesome Battle

It was there by the fluttering cobwebs
blowing in the warm afternoon, where
the nearby leaves were strewning in
the autumn's distant din,

Sealing the dripping siphon which
was spilt and slipping from the hulk
sap of some trees, slyly seducing
these lone insects who were observing
the splitting up of a loose piece of

Wood by someone hidden in the sudden
hood of the dark forest, where the old
fridge chimed in with its damning rattle
pulling in the gruesome leaves in their
distant battle,

The lone ax struggling now with the
distant cackle of a newly diseased

The Sandpiper

Just as my fingers heard the
singing seagulls near these
gurgling rocks, I could see
the spirit of the sea somewhere
twisting the salty wind in this
congealed breach,

I could consider the sand
being scratched by a sandpiper,
looking like the sea, so bold
was the little bird looking
for some grey wet food on
this timid spring day with
its silent grip,

the sea wimple
silently sifting its salty fingers
where the struggling sprays
were haltered now like wild
colts on the cold grass with
an old energetic bounding so
much like a mysterious form,

now a havelock above the
bellowing waves as it saw the
gossip being now hawked on
the pebbly beach.


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