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diamond suicide
Telephone wires and a crucifix,
Cross a soap opera hand.
And He’s cutting them down from their silk slung dooks –
It’s Diamond Suicide, softly they ground.

‘As undeniable as oak apples,
On protracted diseased bow’.
My dreams are swollen in the branches of hands.
While time trips the column of my spine.

She whistled so sweetly,
Through a coven of dead air.
Throw a rope ladder or something,
For my tick and this dead man’s stare.

Caught cavorting and compiling,
Beneath my trope hat and cloak.
As the wind snatches the papers from my hand,
I watch it dancing away from me. Singing –

‘head over heels over head over heels’.
 
 
 
© 2007 andrew plummer
 
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