Friday, 20 April 2007

Saturday Prompts

Those bastards in their mansions

What's on, ny dear Ellie Menterry?

So here it is, the walled-up door


If I move my mouth, it's mostly to smile


Spindly in a heat-haze, almost out of sight


People talk nonsense and I put them straight

Yes, but what about the spiders?

O the unrivalled stench of branded skin

So the holiday proceeds, a series of snapshots

I'm dreaming of that work "Man seated reading"

They sit as far apart as you can in a small compartment

My dear, my skeleton will set like biscuit overnight

On a late bruised-looking roadside weed, a butterfly

Ignite the flares, connect the phones, wind all the clocks...

They walk too far, out in the sticking mud

Behind the spreading butter comes the knife

Her they come, books, skin, lattes

The milk and the post arrive with a baby

All over town, cracks in pavements, patios, walls

No convictions, that's my one major fault

He toyed with a naked razor

You are near again and have been there

When did I ever see you wear a hat?

Instructions, under plain brown covers

with just a toothbrush and the good earth for a bed

your man is long gone, and I have loitered

The autumn, when the convicts took their leave

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