WINKING IN A WALTER LANDER-WOND:
Well it finally reached Essex, that picture postcard treachery of snakes
whose intent be lost midst avenues of sugared sticks. Our gaze diverted by
the beauty leaves us following in the tyre tracks of our forefathers.
As yawning ditches wait concealed beneath the foam for us to glide
our graceful stark trajectories to crunch & bend & twist & crack
& end up on our beetle backs like sunday night celebrities dancing on ice.