suburban portrait

By | 16 August 2019

absence feels nothing like cement
but waiting does – it holds you down

waiting bricks you in to waiting

as though it were time spent
a partnership, donated

unease is bought like lottery tickets
our spoils remain: trick of the past

dead-light, light-years away
the cold parade of dimming cores

that only reach our vision
when they finally choose to leave

stars die nothing like the suburbs do

but I’m learning how to lose
with dry-eyed devastation

two rows of fences sit
between the grass and me

perhaps it’s better labelled lawn
the man who clips the hedges waves

and I wonder if I’ve only
pretended to be kind

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