Boys
on red motorbikes, racing with news
Brutal
as a three a.m. call
Does
nothing cast a shadow, does death weigh?
Graffiti,
however you spell it
Hilltop
after hilltop
Is
the room empty or full of invisible people?
Keyhole
Lie
in darkness, consider your ignorance
Make
me up a highball with round ice cubes
My
cheat is tight with remembrance, crawling with guilt
My
wife eats a Chinese meal
Now
and Then
Now
death comes with a jingle
Once
the police rang and a huge black telephone jangled
Perhaps
something comic, and no tears of the clown to follow
SMILE
Take
your passport, in case
The
earth still spins
The
shell-skin of a long-gone snake
These
are not cheerful enough
This
is a story I really have to tell
Tussle
for a minute then give in
We
could take turns screaming
Who
lives in a house like this?
Without
a history, what kind of story?
You
may have the first word or the last, but share
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