that trainspot dead tot
gut-punch at sixteen—no air
core memory squared
-
use too many stamps
wrap it close in brown paper
deliver it back
-
we're just bilge in here
sloshing about together
for the love of it
-
pane percussion pops
July's nails mark and pepper
a divine dark sleep
-
yeah, nah
Fancy I didn't
know who you are. Turn instead
who I wished you were
-
no spring leaves, I heard
mourning Major Oak with this
Winter Solstice Heart
-
sit you said at my
table laid for two where there's
Standing Room Only
-
I'd much rather be
your minus one than some poor
sad performing fool
-
but, lost property
forgotten in this madness,
we have been mislaid
-
lasterpiece
Wall waits, painting space
this exhibition cancelled—
Our lost lasterpiece.
-
we could've been charmed
but you had to keep hunting
new eleventh things
-
cyanose at sea
while self stings you're defective
I've never had gills
–
please wait
until I'm gone
before you
sing our song
–
mid-Autumn smokefall
backdrops cicada solo
forgot his jacket?
–
slow death by light pollution
even full queen lumen isn't keen
and shrinks
behind disappointing scrappets of summerweight
cotton cloud duvet
an unconvinced toddler
–
autumn shrugs vagrant
café pane seats red Swanni
warm, tended inside
–
paywall
life lurks behind a paywall but
annual sub discount!
pay less in blood and hurt,
save more in heartache and dirt
-
some lived then all die
flung world from you and I, take
those shoes off inside
–
if I
bloom without petals
am I
still a good flower
–
tread tender, don't waste
what remains of the hopeful
derelict heart scraps
–
long for shadows long
sun or moon's spilled bitumen–
darken my doorstep
–
dust mandatory?
henceforth accepting only
moth-wing quality
–
has it
all of it
been poetry
poetry all
this
whole
time?
–
brutalised; landed
in your unsafest safeness
defenseless: I bled
–
