The loom

The Loom

Two coins,
Two faces,
Two tail-ends,
Two pages,
Two hats,
Two eyes,
Two beaches,
Two knifes,

Counting courts of ones and twos,
Placing clothing into crows yews,
Monstrous minutes linked to blinks,
A minaret that couldn't capitulate, 
A northern facing frozen hour hand,
Take off your clothes and join the sand,
I am an animal without a coat,
Needlessly noisy with broken spokes,
You're a thread on a broken bed,
Conceptual concerns of labeled heads,
Fleshly shaven legs to lick,
Place your coat here and remove the zip,
Number three of many numbers seen,
I am a brick and your a seam,
Soft silks sleeping, 
Dreaming cottons breathing,
Wild winds woolied weaving,
Purged pop worn by polyesters screaming,

Too many tears,
Too many years,
Too many paintings,
Too many fears,

The emancipation of the thread,
Worn out elbows,
Worn out heads,
Brown suits deluxe moves,
Dicing monarchs,
Blue rich glue,
Cast the sun away from sin, 
Hold me warm like gushing blood from jumper pin,
Cut slice, sow twice,
Rainbow holding weathered vice,
Tie-less doctrine burning loots,
Place your teeth in the hop,
Needless eyes and needless do,
Cold wind and blacken shoes, 
Sad sights with little rights,
Sat in puddles alone at night,
Remember cycles of perpetual doom,
Hold my hand as I burn the loom,

Two fires
Two pyres 
Two killers
Two lyres,

To love,
To bait,
To borrow,
To make,

Read remould ready to replace, 
Clandestine lovers in endless embrace,
Finger mould through remaining stumbler,
Dead wheels and Luddite fumblers,
Clouds heavy rain down on me,
Drowning out clicks and ticks of machines around thee,
Flood away all coats worn by men,
A blue shirt you were born again,
Knightly villain sticking stout,
Murderous machines built like a house,
Laid to waste pick at the scabs,
Warp weighted looms shift on broken backs,
Little fingers trapped by racks,
Pick lace to promised grace,
Down on your knees,
Bent out of shape.
Thunder stone excavate,
Neo-Roman rule under state.