The Sparrow and the Window

Effusive apples smell like sex and dry bones crickle into the stuff of bombs
And tea biscuits taste like bones, crumbly, crickly, shifty, no good stuff.
“Oi’ve known the ropes [crazy curls and rrrrr’s] all mah life.”
Shanty down towns and brumble brash shady shift of the ash lands and grey tired smoke—
Ok. Plumes, billows, guffaws, huffaws, gasping great reams of dense shit filtering the sky
o! might it mesh the milk of mother and infuse the mold of cream covered pasture lands
Sweat of the mighty porous trees of concrete. Stacks of the swallowing mills blow up
and away.
A green old leaf smiles floating away, yes I am of an elder days.
A kite flies into an electrical wiring pole
A dog is run over by a car
A carrot is made into a juice
A sparrow flies into a clean clear glass window again and again and again and again