Up on a green ridge
watching the lights eat
low in space towards the earth
the flicker of entwined lightning
electric tracks on the sun and moon
sleep falling off a high ledge
dancing mouthfuls of moss
framed glass and wages
doors on a singing hinge
blood faked from stages
tongues pressed against the screens
sand printed with coiling heat
the fringe of vacant clouds
painted deep along the cave walls
turf and its language of war
distilled and flanked by barriers
granite pocks and red dust bowls
tousled steel and cell's radiant limbs
captured swirls of wave-led meaning
tossing fissured stone.