The sentiments were someone’s
a neat brick & velvet enclosure
appearing from nowhere
spiders in a milk bottle
You caress these dissimilar dissimilar phenomena
then stand on deck shivering
simultaneously the deer park
crackles through bracken
The idea is at birth
an idea will be surgically
stitched to foreheads
generations will turn themselves in
Dead before we knew they weren’t
& after paradise will be too soon
in the supermarket
wire rifle, however
You’ve decided to dress occasionally
the river boat hushedly
meanders between mist masses
& you call to a silver faced woman on
the towpath
& she plays an ecstatic
saxophone solo to let herself understand
there is love
if not to be found what else
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