Monday, 16 July 2012

Sunday, 8 July 2012

Woke up this morning with light in my eyes
and anger like treacle all over my thorax;
the bridges have shed their mammaly penumbra
and stand again synthetic in the sun.
Cars fart, complete in their modernity
and commerce, the fluffer, goads the world.

Thursday, 5 July 2012

William welcomes us endlessly anew,
ignores the rest of the station's hubbub

vats of kimchi strapped to his back,
doilies and sweetmeats, pockets of grass.