Blue Crystal Oblivion

Westward wane
Relic maximus
brooding like a stain


On an East bound train
tracks opened wide – terraform(ing)
sticky old wattle glazes
but that fellah
he’s so damn fabulous, ain’t he?
Them Greta Garbo lips conceal a renegade
On the fourth carriage

And it’s a shame
you couldn’t feel the rain pour
here lover,
amongst this arbitrary decor
where unknown covers
of native folk songs
were slain
buried in red plains – ascending

Leave it there humming brother
strumming and violently cumming
into burnt umber’s stark air
alongside amber sparks in middnight’s dark

I will keep
I will keep running
into oblivion.


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