Antique Postcard Mystery Map #54


(%&)12@<Death is like a melting popsicle -?!12wq;

Watch the man wearing the plaid woollen sweater;

his viola has no strings.

The trees are visible.
Go to Virgo, laugh –

Soul is the same skin, straight as beauty.

There is no quantification at Crucible Station;



Dead love sleeps in your dreams.
You have no Waterproof elongated gasket.

The purple soul is steeping,

screams of your grace before a beautiful seal.
The long glamour of slumber creeps in here;
One sand Ò∫.
Skient§mΣZ loves his checkout tailor.
Skin Strings, Predviđanje skeeping tongues.
Who sees it ?
Pour the water slowly & weep.


oven pan abstract – Finding Nature


Leaf, having fallen,

finds place frozen, shaped, holds still –

how like memory,


now melting into remnants

in the light of present day.

Old tarnished baking pan, how many gatherings around the table have you built, before the surface was finally scraped away ?