Sartre stood at Snowdon: Heather Carr

Pseudo-breeze swept up his strawberry sneer,
High-tension line quivering in philharmonic glee,
Mind soaking hypertonic sound,
Shattering five-dollar shoes,
Siphoning silent shoestring thoughts,
22-cents a pound.

Long answer see-through sheets of milky fog,
Sustained breath shining succulent and nitrogen bathed,
Seething softly in somnolent flight,
Osmotic diffusion,
It slithers away.

Susceptible, shaking and quarter-full,
Awaiting fate in footstep form,
Scarlet emblazoned temporary soul,
Non-recyclable pessimist in half-empty world,
Filled to the brim then sucked away.

Make-believe angel,
Crystal powder cryogenic,
Addicted to sub-zero sculpting mold frost,
Mercilessly created to sulk in the snow,
Senselessly waiting for rain.

Milk-run ragdoll,
Jerkily reclining in blue-felt seat
Stream of unconsciousness shaky as the beast,
Drifting gracelessly over the tear-away road.

Ode to a malignant winter-wrought land,
Stale small-towns dot your claustrophobic features,
Frozen in progress-less age-ridden waste,
A plague on the gluttonous future.

Pink pre-school paper oozing passionless prose,
Ketamine writing inducing child-like rage,
Precarious leap into sloth-like oblivion,
Pre-packaged verse picking fights with the brain,
Pet commodore pong in the thoughtless blank space.

Prolific passivity,
Pop-can glory,
Plutonian wit in the positron night,
Peat moss percolation of Pekinese fury,
Pontified plad in the Percodan flight.

Spinning sap sleeping,
Snow White cephalopathy in spartican necrophy,
Soliloquy turning a nefarious fan
Of Freon sarcoma in melanocyte malaise,
Leprous neurosis of frankincense haze.