british poetry (Remove filter)
And why?
And why are you still in my head?
In my chest,
In my soul?
Engulfed by disdain, disgust and love.
And I am so lone.
In the middle of Oxford Street crowds
I want your advice that never helped
I want your forehead kisses that I rejected.
Longing for you on dark silent nights.
To debate: am I ever truly alone?
Or does your phantomlike presence ignite and guide...
Tuesday 16th November 2021 10:41 pm
On the dispersal of water
It’s 1:30 am.
He takes me away from the others unpacking,
opens the front door to the first night
in our first home and squirts WD-40
over both hinges, explains
WD is water dispersal,
NASA concocted this stuff
to keep fields of rockets
from turning orange, then burnt umber.
He heard this on his pocket radio
cycling along blustery North London roads
...Tuesday 5th June 2012 8:54 pm
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