with a line from Yeats


No one expected the second coming

out:
a burst rubber, a premature

BOOM!
‘PEP,’ you echoed. ‘I’ll drive you to

Bolsover
first thing in the

morning.’
His speechlessness a stun

grenade,
ignored

calls
blast

mines.
Hours later, Grindr’s

missiles.
   *
Small: the Beef Capital: the bit of

linoleum
on which Bill or whatever the

hell
his name is

fixes
a gaze blank and

pitiless
as the sun in

Coles’s
old-fashioned produce

section.
Your imagined visor blazes

blackly,
like the Bride’s, your Yamaha sets off

yellowly.