71 Bodies in A Lorry

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The vaporetto between San Marco

And the glass island of Burano

Is packed with bodies

June through August.


At the hottest part of the day they come

Clung to railings,

Tethered and straining,

Sweating into the space of one another,

A feter of sweetness and diesel.


Japanese teenagers, German couples,

Knapsacks and selfie sticks, others,

All stood still in t...

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the tip of my tongue

touches the tip of yours

electric tingles passing between

following the line of your lips

kisses on your chin

continuing along the ridge

of your neck and down

to where you let me go


the tip of my tongue

touches the tip of yours

travels on a shared journey

around the contours of your body

kisses on your ear

continuing along the c...

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Birch Copse

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cool on palms,


a pigskin mottled

paper bark

proudly worn,

wraps wary bulbous

ocular knots

a stand, a sentinel

for these silver powdered ghosts,

whose brisking leaves

bugle the call

about! about!



© Graham Sherwood 09/2015

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And so to do battle

with the words

(much easier said

than done)

for upon their

sad reflection

they're much easier

read than won.

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I remember eyeshine, smear,

transparency and flow;

sunshine flooding corners, floors

and walls awash with haze.


I remember fractal lattice, mimicking

a frosty imprint; winter strings

of spider-ladders swaying

in the breeze.


You remember nothing.


I remember cills of jungle, chewing gum

in silent gazing,          

fingering a smiley face          ...

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Write me something beautiful

without a single sheet of paper

or the use of a pen.

I want the ink to spill

from your tongue,

as your lips against mine

become the words,

and the fluidity in your hands

create the puncuation.

Our breath will decide the direction,

as our kisses slowly

turn into paragraphs,

allowing the movement

of our bodies

to create the chapt...

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Two sharing

I’d been out to pick up

A few bits


When I arrived back

The front door was wide open


I stepped inside

Dropping the bag

I was carrying to

The floor


What you doing now, Louise?


It’s pointless

She said

Its bullshit

I’m drained

You can’t beat the system

Just kick the chair

I’ve had enough


I looked around


There was half a b...

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September creeps in

August whimpers out

Like a storm passing

The tail of its disappointment slides away

Across fields too green


Up on the hill

 looking outward

The open land to the City lies splayed 

Like a victim bent and battered



Its Earth dug and Un-dug

Filled and spilled

Burned and flooded


People are leaving

And happi...

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I am numb. I am emotionally paralyzed, can't feel a thing other than Pain. Joy comes and goes. It's a funny thing Joy. It's just Pains inside joke that only Pains gets. Be careful, not everyone lives with Pain. It takes one bad emotional experience and that's good enough to sell your soul to Pain. 

I've signed the contract and now I'm trapped in a vicious cycle that never sto...

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