Zenith

In the rains of the running alphabet wizard trees stand
temple to see how flint and spoke can undermine the
lascivious wind's cross fire in the vengeance dark, split
from the universe wilderness.Guitar strings pluck the
mire making mad quadrangles, the ocean self cleaves to
the crest-shaken houses where the football farms link
gigolos through the mars bar sun. Crucifix citadels
craven convention climbing frame colours collide
condensed and cogent as the flashfire of flying time
releases the planet's horrendous flood and I am cut of a 
life. My Julia plucks the burning embers where once grew
flowers urban like liquid red I now praise in ecstatic
world's seven words uttered. Crucifix daisies like
limpets sing soliloquies, Spanish gypsies feed in fields
of centimetre puzzles, litanies of excuse me slowlies and
lobsters. In the tattooed sun, by raven black postcard
sea, the seventh daughter from the moon, in the valley
of breaking glass. World people, happening on
pavements, speaking to the world, in loud check suits
eating bright orange hot dogs.