A Window

​is a bricked up

thought that needs opening.
Fresh air is poison disguised

with a mask of benevolence.
Grass is indecent hitching

up it’s skirt in public.
Bones hold up lorries

with a “Your flesh or your life.”
Flowers dirty pavements

with their refusal of the concrete.
Gusts are a blessing against dry

stone walls decayed on the hillside.

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