Unfinished

Non-meiotic burning coals
Fire struck, tepid red
And flesh to stone; tepid foals
Running round the red alive

Hills back to bend where the giants have tread
The serifs draw but the edges are dead
And flesh from bone tear the purple-red holes
Running round the red alive

Mumbles risen by the bystander’s bye
Junk through the resin as it captures the fly
And flesh from home when the world is enclosed
Running round the red alive

Non-meiotic burning coals
Mouldered luck, guttered bed
The first encampment glisten shoals
Mulling froth, sayings said
And flesh to stone as we cut loose the foals
Running round the red alive