THE DAYS LOOKING

the day is the face
of a head in a hood

its like a fridge hum with eyes

its an
attentive 
unstable 
streetside
ripple 

and
maybe 
it looks off somewhere else
but
we
never
catch
it

and
maybe its no more pleased about it
than
we
are

i
see
it
as
an unblinking lizard
dancing on hot sand
making
that
noise
like a hoover does
when
its 
next door
or
one floor up
threatening the walls
or
the
whirled artex ceilings

and it sends in 
big black flies
to find us
if we lay our withering bulks down inside
in
a half-arsed attempt
to
hide
in the afternoons
dead fish 
ebb tide

from littlemissteacher.com