Square Root of Ordinary

Each one suspected Isoscelese was inequitable

he was a means between the brightest fire

and the darkest subterranean waters

Not Janus to his face, nor Doula to her reflection

The tarmac street sheen softly shines

Winter velvet evening resides with hesitant foxes,

wheelie bin shadows on existing shade

an aircraft soars up over suburbia's

little windows and phased into the wake

of walking soles, combusting your bee hives

Approaching soft thudding car audio compressed

arrested in upholstery, a dying bee

Flies telling lies the whole story,

Elusive Down town, tidal its out of reach for everyman.

drowning out those voices, an unlistening void.

 

Done