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The Hitting Game
On the island’s south side
a solitary town fizzes
like overloaded circuitry
on dark, motherboard hills.
Across a sticky, smooth-tiled walkway
an amusement arcade spills
a test of sexiness based on how clammy your palm is
and the hitting game.
You spin in coins so they register
on sensors worn numb.
A padded stump protuberates.
The s...
Sunday 29th July 2012 4:35 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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