A dead horse’s head, flak-flensed
Wide-eye like a fish sight lens
Wreathed in supernatural blueberry flames
Leant against a gate, like a no-tautness workman on cigarette break
A ghostcoloured girl singing a strained lullaby in a ruin-shaded lane
She wheels forth and back in the customary rhythm of relaxation
A one-wheeled pram razed to its armature by the blaze.
Alchemisland 
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