Pissed up
and his bare arms
all limned webs and flags
he falls into Iceland
as lean kids
in Henley shirts
carrying cue cases
take up pavement
with fuck you laughter.
The storm
forecasted
comes closer
with each tiptoe breath
using up the comic force
of the grand false lashes
on the now shivering girl.
Vague
clouds.
Coldness.
Morning prayers, week one: handed; heart; eat this bread; broke; splendour.
Shift the world clutter
out from here
[Striking the breast,
exit clumsily].