The library smells like snuffed candles
Worn out books line the walls
In shelves like winding halls
I cannot find words of meaning
I am certain yesterday was demeaning
Yet here I am in ice cold shambles

The salmon struggle
in the current passing me
on their own one way up
the river trip to eternity

Impressive not open spaces,
Crocodiles in the swamp.
Not because the knackers,
I'm tired at work.

White teeth excavator
Clearing the swamp mud,
I would also scare fishermen
Twisting the green back.

I would also splash my tail,
Swimming, diving, kicking.
I would become an african whale
With webbed fins.

I wander through the irreplaceable night
waiting for the grey vagueness of dawn.

It isn't always so complicated;
the deepest things are simple at their root.

When the wolf wanders into the valley
does she hesitate at the fork?
Does she wonder about the untrod path,
or just stick to the banal evil of normal?
She prods at my kidneys with her nose,
hesitates, smells the remnants of Florida,
and trots onward, not looking back.

It's second nature to love you,
but first to see my wrongs.
It's easy to miss things
in the new darkness of night.

my heart is cold and empty
and the dead body of a dog lies on the floor
when alive it thrashed and tore
and ripped open the flesh of anybody everybody
and me

i plied open his mouth
withstanding the sinking of teeth
i tried to pull out his claws
so that he wouldn’t be so mean
to me

he ripped away
and had his way
and i lie, covered cold in teeth marks
his bite was infinitely worse than his bark
i see

i close my eyes i cant forget
that night and brutal threat
even though he’s gone
i live my life in fear
when will the fog be clear?