Angry Gnomes, Troglodytes and invisible assassins
Converge at blind-man’s hollow
Giant lush scene-stealing scenic-distemper engorges upon the valleys of lavender dream-like bursts of brush, seemingly from some planet yet to be named. Tides too famous to appear here and now, have just come awash. With an ever-alluring, pinch of crushing adoration, and a fickle sentiment of teenage-type, schoolyard infatuation swallowing me wholly, the water, caresses in a loving yet reverential fashion and it has since anointed every inch of me, blanketing my aperture in a cloud of foam and vegetation.
Foreign symbols take their place
Spiders, legs for arms, arms for legs
A disjointed sense of ownership
Without a feasible trace of genealogy
Someplace in the shell itself…
There must be something, anything
That can help identify point of origin
Why bother, you might say?
Well…it’s important, that’s why.
And I know,
This probably wasn’t the answer you had in mind
But at present…
It’s all I have.