Sunday, 24 November 2019

I guess the rain

In Angleland
where pavement clings
go hug yourself

Three trees are difficult:
mixed meters

familiar rodent grin at the PO
plainness glaze     
fuckpig lines

wall face got up
wall face

The girl shrank back

Glass bled and whispered, "Not long now".

Sunday, 3 November 2019

Shape Moves

Face-to red flowers below the eyes
       This fine crow trod a square to fit

lambent feels

  Thin lizard of autumn coils at feet
           and you held your breath still
        then couldn’t say

   A danced round with a pivot
        plumb dropt from who knows where

All the wrecked boom patterns in the dark