teletubbies to the left of her
teletubbies to the right of her
into the valley of starbucks rode
an
old
woman
skin like a party balloon
deflating 2 days later
and
her
flat
brown
clothes
well shes like a wire coat hanger
inside
them
and ignorant
of the days
plectrum
spectrum
beard parade
she
mutters alone
to an empty cup
absorbed in the absence inbetween
where her
niche life
nestles
from iheartberlin.be
all
the
good
old
school
poets
wrote letters
i read about it in forwards
and
saw big hardbacks
of
collected
correspondences
from
mexico and salt marsh
from
forbidden territories and the tree house
they
knew
each
others
appetites - shared their missions
ideas
tempers
beds
and
lives - filing eyes-only reports from private wastelands
and
barking
moods
from
their
beards
the electric age
has made correspondence easier
but
reduced
our souls
to
shouting soundbites
so to good poets out there - apologies
for
my
scant sharing
of ideas
mission
and
temper
but
my
mission
is
a small one and cloudy
and
my
empathy strained
