Any clot with a crossword
can break a greenshield.
The Admiralty never uses sea tar
except for the decoy of dirty tricks.
We curled to the tradecraft of such things
like wet oak and shoreline, the wind-sponged bricks of Block D.
The wireless crawled with morphogenesis.
Incredible that so much should be entangled
in the traffic of our both-ways world.
Queer lot that we were
with our notebooks crusted like churchyards,
did we breed in secret,
sleeves shedding a lecture of spores?
We found our code
between silence and symbiosis,
our maps and scripts, our audacious sunbursts.