Monday, 4 March 2013

WALKING TO THE CAFE


the sky is like englands beer
no 
surprises in the glass and poured everywhere

a grey wave of dirty cotton
thrown above to horizon black trees
and
flat
industry roofs

scooped shallow holes
glow weak white light
and 
it 
all slides sideways slowly

drifting - the world!

i become comfortably dizzy

and 
the air is still like those childhood sunday afternoons
when
you
wonder
about it all
alone
on
a
street corner leaning on railings
shiny
from time and a million hands
counting 
the 
seconds 
out
on a casio watch





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