on holiday waiting
to die
moon a white
plastic button,
scuttled balsa days
lemon-free and
empty as
cuttlefish,
afternoons on the
money coast,
fried dace,
Saturday sea,
stinking grass jelly
swamp,
raindrops of honey
descending
like
banjo
notes,
creeks of brassy
mucus,
terracotta mornings
in aquifer minds,
all these days
beads on a necklace.
*
permeable veins of gold
stone croft days on
the scarp
wet jungle shoes and
knee-high socks
Airtex blankets
Aero chocolate
Airfix planes
silicon lifeforms
nail polish remover
puffball planets
moored to tossing
buoys
dam-busting dreams and a damp sheet
all these days not a good time
never again.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.