We lay together after sex, dead angels
Throwing my cap in the air
Daffodils, Catkins, Pussy-Willows
Sunlight and shallow water
A snake slithered over my book
Praise turns to dust
I know how to build a canoe
Such a small wound
Is there anything sadder than fallen houses?
The buses couldn’t make it up Caerau Road, the men got off to push
Miss Duffner and Miss Wilce, they were, were…
Amaretto, poems, fire
Thank-you for the photographs. Is that really me?
We can start at the top and work our way down
Mrs Bartholemew, Oh, Mrs Bartholemew
Outside it’s raining
I am hungry, I have clothes.
In German, “clever” is an insult
My shirt that scares of flies
You wallow in your folly
Tom Evans beats his wife and she is silent
It is dark up there
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