Kit Kelen #743 - scuttle

743

scuttle

in a library

piled

hiding

(work of accidents)

the picture in the page

fallen truth

all kinds of instruments in there

let a breeze

a leaf through the trees

that's opinion

I roll around on it

a garden all handles

here it's time waits

while we come

(tools and skin and poison)

and it is canvas

painted in

kooka branches

fur flown

breeze tops of a window

where cloud is only passing

the choir angelic

my radio heart

sat everywhere

for some snake puts a head up

and not a feather lost

haunt of a certain spider

we scare back into tin

a resolution sorts it all

that last flash was a year

close your eyes

see angles lit

(grey day in the book

where the sun shot through)

I followed a rabbit

wings had me up high

and tell brocaded chambers

I'm all outwitted here

only write the books I need

read a way this far

thus

who can see after me?

who's coming along?

Her Highness Antechinus

where?

when I command performance

off on adventures

in the biggest chair

a long long way in there