1402
in poetry pretending 
that you are
here with me my love
and all the
generations 
for instance that
there’s money in it 
words mouth
to mouth passed down 
pretending to
prose at home 
tell a story 
cosy 
coo
under your
bushel hiding a rhyme 
that someone
sees my shining crown
these are my
friends 
posture of
class 
no gum trees
here
still
kangariddles 
wallabeasts 
a forest of
dropbears 
devil may
all city grit
home terrors 
to have made
me mean 
to run the ragged
limbs let
loose 
no, more like
look up in
the air 
is it…?
imagine the
poet inside 
this
submarine 
no subterren
boring away 
like a Hamlet
ghost 
and ‘swear!’
I was here
for a good time 
bright as the
rain 
smoke in the
air must signify
all
territories tightly held 
take up my
brush and stone
as ancients
always ink
or clatter in
the keys 
and see the
futures shining so
in poetry
pretending 
to have
always been here 
or that one
day you’ll say 
a cock crows
in it somewhere
I have seen
the cows come home 
I do all the
marvelling 
clammy with
the fear 
and touch,
lust long for it 
as wet as
hard as at it then
in poetry
pretending 
a feat of strength,
complexity 
can you lift
this one?
is it over
your head?
always ever
so tending to truth 
who wins this
prize?
we’re close
pretending
that we sing 
and are a
chorus 
a poem tells
its day will come 
when
everybody knows 
still it
falls into the cracks 
just so you’ll
climb the walls 
coffined with
the ant – no air 
is this the
way we’ll go
but no!
I come from
the microscope estates 
and message
bottle sea
all of it
above and beyond 
against all
facts 
a life well
spent 
nor are we in
the bottle here 
but blot the
copybook 
crossings out
pretending a
thousand words to the picture 
be the menagerie
as it may 
to have made
mean 
to run the
shop 
over hills
and far away
all once upon
till time and times 
it’s in so
many poems no one can breathe 
come for the
villains 
and loved by
the righteous just
drill down
the gutter
leaks 
a tile comes
loose 
always work
to do 
and bibles of
us smitten, smite 
it is the most essential thing 
pretending, I mean 
a bettered world 
and bettering 
in poetry pretending
someone’s reading
here 
 
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