my father a sculpture garden

drunk again
the hum
of a fridge

the sweetness 
of a panther’s breath

maroon
moving into nothing
the statue’s symmetry

from my memory
the biggest lie

____________


new moon
a car moves beyond
the streetlight

folding coal
the road

relationship status
the infinity
between lines

a policeman 
finds a horse

____________

blueberry
my father
a sculpture garden

the neighbours forget
to take in the washing

soaking beans
the child’s
first steps

a magpie fans its tail
towards a sunset

the last lion

Stroll along the White Cart. Round hoardings and boarding of the foreign commissariat. The map lists earthworks but I’m not too sure - it’s all real flat and endless. The alleyways of the commissariat. Awe. Nearly. Not too far. Ate some blackberries that fell from some ‘unknown source’. Little under ripe - but still. Stooped in calligraphy. Birds - Colitis - Lower Colon - The way water reflects light onto concrete and the barren bowed legs of a postman. Time and then some for Elliott. The tramp, me, asks for some spare change.

unripe blackberry
the last lion 
a triangle

cobbled torso

school shooting

early frost

i ask
do only depressed people

for an orange

kill themselves?

___________


taking for granted

sometimes….

her second

the child

language

with two mouths

___________
loneliness

rusting hammer

in the tenement window

the space station

sun set

passes over

___________

sheepfold

cobbled torso

a red landscape

lee harvey oswald

moves through metal

as a horse