When Crosses Are Seen Sideways

When crosses are seen sideways as barren poles
And vision blurs to only warm touches of movement

I’m trying to keep the chemical divisions at bay
And pour pure perceptions from Thought alone
While I wait in the hours of fields rot

Elapsed hues of blight collide with the swarms of sirens sharp
While the defenceless unclothed condition of enormous brain
Gets spoken through the words of the leering strangers passing by

It’s time to run boy run, run girl run
Do not look back nor clutch the lock-gut throat-stuck

A felt breath and cold splash of relief await those still woken
Under the near dawn stars of Eternal Continuation...