New Years Day
I am the dust that falls on polished shelves
Your tiny gatherings of sorrow
Are we queueing to get in or to leave?
Something about geese, high, oblivious
Politicians, like vampires, must be invited in
Two roads diverged. I flipped for it.
a face like a ruined caravan.
It might be the sun that makes us shiver
Summon the dogs, the cats, the birds
You are a host for passing, ambivalent air
The horses smell the fear
Once a year the shopping trolleys dance.
Popped out for milk, eggs and ammo
A flash of sunshine between trees: a golden tube
Did you think only others were passing through?
Brass Bands, Flags and Bullshit
Jesus Christ has joined the board of directors
You leave out certain parts. What do I love?
like a fading echo meets a fluttering bird.
The tribe is scattered; there is only you