Poetry Blogs (laissez faire)
Again, alive. No good. No good cursing your eyes their function. That your heart survived another night less luck, more, stubborn rebuke to the revisionist thread of airbrushed policy. Walk, when the whistle blows, as the shift changes from red to murder and gather us all around the dead bag, dog shit bats hanging in the sidings. Too much to see with closed eyes picking out the sighs of a crucifor...
Wednesday 21st May 2014 7:42 am
nowadays they have to pinch the ends
of their cigarettes before they cross the threshold
no longer allowed to herd the crumbling swarms
of ash across the gingham veldt
outside the window, on the pavement, lies a bible
and the radio declares their readiness is high
seems like a good night to let the smokers
in and warm around a last ember...
Friday 5th April 2013 8:39 pm