1 touch the walls with bare hands. snow. each line along his brow spilling over glistening stones. 2 I hear the nurses calling between shadows and give that up, too. He will draw a door closing and flickers of saints inside the shell of a car a library of untranslated prose no longer light years away. You harvested whatever you could carry Along the independent variable of time or narrative - sleep awhile, if you will. This will look like a circle to the audience and they will applaud. 3 until we meet inside the radio or (doctored) film with red flowers (I hope this thing) the name of a late breeze looks nothing like a familiar occurrence subject to change (at least in front of you) secret drawer tidy package focus evenly tell me until we meet (inside the radio) There's no comparison 4 the latest report patiently clouds the room and cannot see the other side colour in each petal with the scratchy hand of a kid you are bookbinder cartographer dog on the wall all to himself underneath old newspapers ___________________________________________________ Those eyes that shift from left to right Pull out a folded handkerchief and tell us where we are, how it becomes us, the monk replied Except for the suitcase he has completely filled with unfinished words ___________________________________________________ deserted by a whole team of people with tools of the quotidian. (We apologise for endangered auxiliary verbs including sharp or heavy objects but not tonight.) ___________________________________________________ dog on the wall all to himself underneath old newspapers its existence identity late and later Crazily it shone
30.1: MADE
Released July 2009Index of Poems
Editor/ Producer: David Prater
Cover Image: David Prater
The poems in this special issue were 'made' by the contributors to 30: Custom using lines from each others' works.





