the old oblong Frelingstaf was out to walk
the river was golden
and in the sky a cloud
on the horizon
small like a collection of pus
on the lip of the sky
the water in the sky won’t fall
and the ground is dust
dirt
what water leaves behind
and dry
gravel by dirt by sun blink water
the trees around are still green but edges curling
squeezing everything they can out of the soil.
oh it’s hot for Frelingstaf
no hat no shades
and why? they didn’t think to
it’s just a walk
the magpies are fighting over dried moss
broken free from a rooftop
form a ring around a crow’s perch
and shout
and the wind has no moisture
and a few months ago Frelingstaf had wished
no rain. no more.
after three whole months of flood
but now that small cloud is like the promise of tomorrow
fingers on the hand already curling to steal it away.
6 coins into the river.
and 3 into their own mouth.
at the bottom of the bed the horror smiles back.
oh Frelingstaf can’t sleep. won’t ever again.
no sunset.
no eclipse.
no water.
oh Frelingstaf can’t sleep.
just walk just walk.
GlitchOut 