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On The Beach At Durdle Door
I awoke, on the beach
at Durdle Door
Pebbles jabbing their bony fingers
into the knuckles of my spine
Tear tracks make maps of cheeks
a brew of salt and sand
that cannot easily be brushed away
The alarm call of gulls above
they want my chips
But it’s 4am
and these hands are empty
with swollen palms
and throbbing skull
I have nothing to offer
them… or anyone
The busy sea endlessl...
Tuesday 1st April 2025 3:08 pm
Souvenir
Getting acquainted with the moon
behind glass
we exchange so many glances
and on my back
a thousand heart-attacks roll past
My fingers beside, cross and uncross
as you sleep, so black
back in the real world
paid up entirely
on your subscription
to actual reality
O would you bring me a souvenir
from the envious depths of endless peace
perhaps a child or a patient nurse
or some cont...
Tuesday 20th November 2018 6:29 pm
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