Monday, 14 September 2020

Caravan Adagio

Caravan Adagio


sat as tin

in the steepred text

of a horrornovel 


in the haunthe flapped

his eyes all he liked

an aside fromthe


fivewine baby

was a negativetake

offshot above littentree


claytile and what's left

of catsome through

sorry blindslits


shesang pidgin

in english traffic

he duckeddown 


as cold as a caravan

and fell righthandy

farmedoff to the armchair


love of a staggeredwagon

staged bricksn’mould

heasleep with eyes


openspitting bootnails

into elvis ashtrays how lost

onhim was purecotton so


indreams he noseblew

on the certificateofbirth of 

a oncegreen somebody 

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