Friday, 12 April 2013

a twenty eighth poem...'acrobat falls'

Every day he stood in the park
Flipping a coin
And then he would sink his last penny
Into the wishing well
At the Saratoga memorial
Slathered in American pale ale
He danced
Fluttering against the bars
Of the children’s enclosure
Pirouetting
On the roundabout
In and out of
Coloured toadstools
The acid trip of a second psychedelic Sunday
Over
In his egg shell mind
Visions of utopia
Multi coloured, fluorescent and nascent
Trapezed white clouds
Touched with fire
Walked masts, w’white sails
Above an aqua blue, never ending stretch
Of the Sargasso Sea
Acrobat flails, falls, fails

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