I am the neon burner,
golem walker, dream stalker
on night-ma-red roads.
Behind, pavements
lie murking shadows
in trenches to the side.
Silent drifting, these
sleeping cities dreaming
they are still awake.
Deep ocean hunter
under my own light.
Cold fire will call,
from high lines
to dream tides,
washed in the
flotsam and jetsam
of your night.
Outside our dreams piped
to the periphery of life.
See us reborn into
sleep’s despair,
as lizard brains must
warm on these moonlit rocks.
©️ Dai Fry 17th May 2020.