Axes of Orientation

By | 30 June 2008

sit in parks with leaves as feet the eloquence of the day
waning as seeds become antiques (the stairs lead to
carparks and loose bricks) razor wire curls to your
emergency ears you seek assistance green for
timetables red for blood this is the seventh time and
with trucks in cages you know the sundering will begin
(the bars painted in candy stripes) you must submit to
lacing and bags stuffed with words shade lies beyond
the umbrellas held in boxes electrically lit in the end all
answers are highlighted in pink but you are an hour
too late your special needs hung round someone else's
neck your pension allocated to the tree with no leaves

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