Monday, February 01, 2021



Running on the spot in my room

The wind off Lundy Roads

Write up the dead in yellow chalk

I understand we should not love

The girl who found a dragon’s footprint

Fat Dads about to die early

The screaming muscles in our thighs

We barefoot penitents

Again and Again and A-fucking-gain

Evan started catching shells

Packman not Pac-Man

A shrine to the devil

This simply will not do

What if we put trampolines out?

They call him “Gullible Joseph”

For all intents and purposes

We cannot hide here huddled round the stove

I confess I am not a confessional poet

Like Trigger's Broom

Waiting for the postman and the milk

The still-whole windows in a shipwreck

Boiling buttercups

We Live, We Live, We are Alive

When winds move us and breezes whisper

They are burning cows on every farm

If we still had dragons and knights

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