skirting the edges, living out fantastic misadventures cart in-tow, carrying toy soldiers some missing parts from that last battle metal tyres echoing off hardwood fences another across the way cart in-tow, carrying cantilevers calvary and buried amongst soldiers and cannonade there lies the captain
tuning in
sub hertz hearing quiet hum of motor stretching out one syllable repeating patterns this machine utters nonsense while I pour another cup
