Testament Of The Severed Head

Soft exploding rainbows
Firing droplets through the sky,
Hit with blissful noiselessness,
A stroke of the coloured head.
Slide round swings and roundabouts,
Wet smiles floating in harmony,
When science weaves its way
Through a world it left behind
In a fleet of blue and yellow boats
Travelling in concentric circles,
Trying to be the first to see,
To find darkness in perpetual light.
As regimented in stationary shelves,
The puppet chorus crows
While lonely drinks are sticky pink,
Holding throbbing peach with strings,
The blue and the green take slowly
And crisscrossed red searches for superman.
Eyes closed to the stars
In plain sight of the sun,
Watching sheets ripple taught,
Men are hauling up the moon,
Like feather-backed friends feeding,
Jumping desperately, wishing for wings.

by Stuart Doggett

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