Jasmine

	I angered dust and robots
	Wore lockets with dead friends' hair
	Growing like waves or smoke
	In the fabric house
	The train hops towards sorcery
	And the fake Fatherland
	Spills flies and totems
	Hauls BrockStars by Teeth
	Moulds abstract CHRIST
	As sweet as jasmine
	I saw the ink spread
	Over the bed the faces mark masks
	And hook down comet trails
	Whilst the tombs of great trees
	Open again for me and thee