Friday, 19 April 2013


If no one could possibly live
surrounded by frozen rivers
how is it probable
ghosts fear their lovers’ shadows

All that’s required
is to be a typographic error
on afternoons of neglected civilisations

You think you’ve your boots slung round your neck
because you are moving heavy furniture
until any child in any basement flat
floats past your window onomatopoeiaising

That’s how I became a glass machine
gun / anyone who looks closely at this sky beautiful & placid
knows it is made of fabric samples & glue-tempera

As I type this the world fast forwards
to the 1980s
to the day I was sunburnt all over
to the hour my eyes went mad

Probably no one could die surrounded by frozen meadows
so how is it not possible
ghosts fear a previous existence

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