My eyes are sent into an eagle.
The city is sound sieged and draped in star-stealing electric hangover.
On the clocktower, watching zeppelins bobbing like cartoon jellyfish,
Rosy fireballs rising in a fabulous stream, away out of sight,
The dreams and prayers and hopes:
For cures, for alms, for doping balms, for ends to plight.
My eyes return to me,
Head addled with dwarf-short stories I contort to legend for my own glory:
A flock of seagulls, pigeons on a ledge, breeding foxes, hogs of hedge.
Watching neon joggers run along in shocking fog along the river edge,
Empty cans, albino scum froth, and water filth congregate at locks.
Alchemisland 
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