Countdown To Clone Day, Rubbish Writing

Granules of recollection rub like salt Flailing in the fog of seven years ago Deafened by incessant frog cries Vines dangling began attaching to each other Drying river stagnated, slime slippery with algae Vigorous tree growth stooped in defeat Muddy river banks fixed my feet, prisoners Quick sand sapped my energy, ate my memories Spears of bygone javelin my lungs, make gasp Emerging from the mist of six years ago Mountain side incredibly steep left me breathless Static crinkle hissed between my eardrums Channels flip changed without my inference Hard luck hollowing trunks of high altitude Offered to swallow my past, kindly include present Flattened cushions of childhood fights , bring distance Spinning cartwheels into oblivion of five years ago Faintly flickering home movies startle between grins Marbled images depict how we were, junctions punctured Paths deviated, split decisions, moments distilled Bottles broken, options poured, down the sink Faltering swell glimmers foaming overdrawn fantasies Slices rewound reflect fleeting of four years ago Head barely above, awash in nonsense, victim of tides Pushed under and pulled above, or is it more apt the other way 'round, heavy, ocean surrounds drowns Pencil case zipper obediently conceals, shoved down Fragmented fragrant shavings of three years ago Greyed erasers took too much, left the wrong stuff Coloured stubs refuse to function, shrink upon prompting Mirror tells me glamour remains against toughest test High eyebrows, pristine lip lustre of two years ago Marilyn wink in the blink of camera, busy filtering truth Tree hugging Boho took over, appealed to populus ideal Cocaine sand between toasted toes, garland encircling forehead Currently I'm languishing in roses bestowed by crown of thorns * * * * * * * *