Tuesday, 7 December 2004

Some more poems wot I wrote

Gulp stream

The freshwater air

Coming through my window

Is the cause of an error


I try not to respond

Or form a movement

When denied something

That I am used to.


A manifesto,

Like all books,

Of survival.

Working nights

Cautious mornings where I get up late,

are sites for rumbling traffic

and tired hate.

I need net curtains

Obnoxious passers-by

Crane their necks.

I would rather wring them.


Choking on chocolate,

I realise that my diet

Isn’t wholly appropriate

For this time of night.


The last time I tried

to shut everything out

I trapped my face in the door.


I should like to write a magazine.

I will be the editor and I shall

Write the articles and do the pictures

And the design and the cover,

As well as the interviews,

Marketing and promotion,

Advertising and distribution.

I will then buy it.

I will be the only one.

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