where memories come

and, memories go

to the globe of darkness

turned a smoked window

into the eye

of my anger

at being dragged

into an arena



the november man

and, the winds around

observe this day

of crystal sound

aesthetics imposed

apologies surpassed

manoeuvring evenings

of broken glass



and, truthfully pay

and, truthfully stay

under the axe

of a burnt-out day

and, truthfully pay

and, truthfully stay

under the axe

of a burnt-out day...