the civvy-clad corpses
gone cold-stiff
looked child-thrown
out
on
the
loading bays concrete stage
its cement cracks edged with frost moss
~
i tried to fold them
&
i tried to hide them
in the new snowfall
&
shovelled piled ice
in that hectic dream panic
that might wake a regular man
~
police passed without a word
we shared a look -
workers all alone
& we knew it
all of us rabbit hole deep
inside
an
obligated
national service of the soul
~
authors note -
i dreamed all of this
before the covidien came
portentous perhaps ?
but
in the dream world
it was noel fielding
running the ITU...
photo Lift Off from the Dagenham Archive
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