Sunday, 9 February 2014

Morning

Dulled fake slate

Split lip inks up

Sky wash with bruises

A heavy necklace
of oughts

Terraceds squaring
bled rural traces

We have to call it
a drama today

2 comments:

  1. A heavy necklace
    of oughts

    The weight of that, as of a former century, is felt, but I insist on scrabbling up a bit of promise from the rural traces bleeding through the terraces.

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  2. There are parts of the city where you get glimpses. The trees in our backyard are much older than the house.

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