Friday, 7 December 2012


One year it was obligatory
to be wary of wearing hats with no names
Of a collection of lecterns it was written
a collection of lecterns was the essence of nullity made wax
Their loving similes interrupted the development of cartoon technology
and made it the more likely
abuse of prescription medicines would ensue / In our night rides
as youngest assassins we epitomised an idea
of folkdance as moral philosophy
I was never more alone than the day you kissed the night
containing suitcases of blond hair a canary cage and
now I hear the wind and the rain
and the sound is a cold sound
the rain and the wind the sound so cold 

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