Crutch

Shriveled cloth

that too, did you.

Comma blossom conversation

drop, jump in the moon,

skimming the nightjar of what is now mist.

We danced on train in. Gaunt

fruit glaze mud of sluice mill and scissor.

Spooned the glad man's gabardine plant nuggets

to light trail pack and bent. Find him late

in the iridescent algae at the farthest edge

from the track. We paste grim on the rack.

Like your kernel nub on the amble contour

of a nightshirt, a grasping bramble

of slander hand. Heart buried spindle. Poke

a bonnet switch cloth snagged in briar

duct under fungus lump burl and dally.

Fugue. 

Dissolve a gilded lump as dusk slump. 

Look. Poach. Acorn oak. Splendid

crutch of naked and murk.