Gargoyle by Martin Parsons

Stony-eyed meets beady eyes and match, latch upon, as masses move on. An undying champion: Set. Game. Won. In surveillance, unblinded by sun. Done. For that dreamless state is become stateless dream, then dream of state, slate wiped clean. One. Staunch with practicality, perched, its practically eternal praxis That rain makes good – – flying buttresses! – – Sitting, spitting… While flitting Round and round … Continue reading Gargoyle by Martin Parsons