Exit Strategies
the trees are badly drawn nudes
that'll be £3.60 for the beer
i don't know / what do you think speaks the
language of ice floes?
WE SHOULD BREAK UP ⬆️⬆️⬆️
Update me on the brochure project, mmkay?
The telephone's cracked carapace can't be glued
back together
the runway of the tongue is making my mother
vowels fly away
bohemian waxwings are drunk on everything i
despise
the apartment speaks an adult's dialect / i
can't understand a word it says
i don't know where the EXIT is, Sir
Conviction
The woman sitting in front of me has a goat in
her handbag. I'm convinced. She moves a little and a bell rings. I'm convinced.
There is a tuxedo shaded pygmy goat with a bubble-gum-pink bow inside. I'm
convinced. Her name might be Tinkerbell or Gloria. I'm convinced the bell is
attached to a cracked red leather collar turning terracotta. I'm convinced. The
woman sitting in front of me moves a little bit more. The bell rings. I'm
convinced the goat is real. I'd like her to open her bag so I can offer some downy
arm hair to chew instead of non existent grass. I'm convinced. The woman in
front leaves but I keep hearing the bell. Is this a sign? I'm convinced. Maybe
the goat is the saint everyone says I mutter about in my sleep, asking to take
away my pain that bleats in the day and makes me bash into everything like a
bumper car gone haywire. I'm convinced.
Cornflakes/Sekalfnroc
I trudge/egdurt through the
darkness/ssenkrad
like a pit pony, passing rapeseed
fields dyed white by moonlight/thgilnoom,
a closed down pub/bup wearing a fibreboard
eyepatch and the village shop
figuring out its identity/ytitnedi. I sit/tis
to eat/tae economy cornflakes/sekalfnroc
in milk/klim diluted with water/retaw
and think/kniht of you/uoy
mirroring/gnirorrim our/ruo distance/ecnatsid
that even the stars/srats seem
closer/resolc.
Pony
Eccentric animal lover moves pony into semi-detached house
The pony is sitting in her favourite chair
looking at the Daily Telegraph. Human
words ricochet in her brain. Now she is
crunching on boiled sweets, remembering
the field developing like film in her
mind.
The pony studies the room and sees grass.
The furniture, carpets, wonky lamp and TV
are lush grass stalks. Even the woman
coming in with a tray of tea and apples.
She wants to chew every inch of her
while remembering the endless field
that kept her behind an electric fence,
away from thoughts of the road that
rushed quickly. Away from the thought
of a thought.
