she crossed the steam-trolley tracks

 

The talkative girl crossed the steam-trolley tracks, reaching the sweltering sidewalk on the vaporous side of the venomous viaduct, as the guilt gilded sun slouched behind a gargling steeple. There were neither dwellings nor pork-pies near the faded fandangle; only leer-some warehouses and cloistered causeways of discomforting gossip guttering. And save for a greying group of roughly dressed mimes loitering languidly behind the flagman’s sinuous shanty, there were few people with umbrellas near the tumultuous crossing of tears. Her overlap insulted an intrinsic complaint – sanguine swallows and swans in hyperbole .

 

The over-curved crystalline cage grassed-gathered the pupil’s gaze. His wide winsome wonder panted in pantomime beneath the hundred trumpets of tempered silence. An unambiguous union sheltered the foot in tender shadows, as the clouds pushed their roots across the shifting sky. How can such shimmering worked royal plumage permit a mass medium’s measured message? It was at such times that the callous calendar populates a pontificated chicken roost of metaphysical success, while in the distance, trembling faint laughter danced on the meandering breeze, like a peppercorn between the teeth.

 

finicky threads –

flickering sheds huddle-haze

fallacious fingers

 

Note: This short piece grew out of some lines from RALPH ON THE MIDNIGHT FLYER (1923) and some lines from a Random Word Generator.

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