Tuesday, 28 February 2012


all hens live in huts at winter

otherwise the neatest embroidery

cut to an eyelash ///\

was no moon nearest


police hanged by its finger

there are books dedicated

to a dance step / crusher

thimbleful fiery


da da da da da da de da de

on warm days sugar

on cold days nightmare

trees changing name so cautious


solemn neighbour

bartering hen

kissing cabbage

s everything remembers remembering.

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