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