Wednesday, May 16, 2018



I wanted to start
but instead I dug a small pit
around my tongue, that’s
which I tripped down.

Where I wanted to say was, you lay
by the hedgerow I had dug a hole
and moved it closer
with the tip of your lane.

What if it rains, or chills out? Then
I’d want to be of some good, I’ll just
hold on for you your contact lenses,
just not with my butterfingerslips,

tips - oh not that that matters chaps - but
with a compromise spectacle quarried uh
from crystalline contradiction you beheld
behind the lips of your arse & your irises.

Chips is fine, do they do
going back and being a good person.
Everywhere we go there are
railway stations, could we do you think

be trains or oopses or suicidal ideation?
What I should have said to you that night
was sublation. "Sublation spectacle." Be
warned I think there

might be an insect whose
interests intersect with those
of this pub although. Give bird by
the hedgerow

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