Milk # 74 Claine Keily

Here signs
on the door
that there are things forbidden
corridors gloomy
no glittering rivers
just the sound of cars
shrill in my soul

This is what it is like
in England

Weighing the cost
of cornflakes for dinner
against the numbing effect
of cheap cider
I learnt to leave
milk in the shade of
windowsills
to save on electricity
rising early to eat
in the hope
of finding that
it had not soured