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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