what things gold

initials silencia
 by worms
 a painted argument–

time is a gun
gone off now
 in variable directions

the exciting age
approaches
 down the road

old bones clunk
like the gearbox
 of my first car

madly careering
the ploughshare into
 an ant's mound

the steering wheel
spins out of my hands

a body like
a door hanging loose on its
 hinge

blowing open
with a cold breeze
 - a fever of ghasts