Aureate Locks

 by AE Reiff

Lost trains along the track
convey the draft in flames
from farms below the lines.
 
Giant cubes of steel
out-plane and form
the old world round
with one intent to burn.
 
Drop by drop on aureate rock
ducks in their coal-neuks discern
A double strand of long legged thrones.
Toes with feet hang down,
Turpitude grows endless
commentary where I go.
 
Call them bridges over mouths,
call them gates grotesque
bobbling on corded strands
one foot in vacant space.
 
Eagles nest on road signs there
and firefly wishes rise,
High season down high road wears
different color thoughts,
yellow hats and chartreuse scarves.
 
The crowd is singing, tongue in Mouth,
Throne rulers create the lords,
moon chained villages suspend below
radium pyre words.