The Váh and her Clapboard Boat
Spaghetti & the vast Virgins of volatile sleep and conformity –
wanting home in the dawn of the eve
you brush a gentle hairstroke to the underpinning of my heartstrings
snipping each by each as you go –
non-conformity is a beautiful thing
if me, a clapboard boat and you, the earthy Váh
our death is music to those who cannot breath
let us be the inhaler to calm their burdened sorrows
