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
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