Saturday, 19 May 2012


Jo on my shoulder he has my ear
picking out worms, putting in pearls
but he goads
“run!” he caws and in a harebrained haste
I race
faster than the flash flicker fire of neon engagement
I beat my chronic heart across the room
but did not wait and left it pounding
against slatted ivory walls,
those brittle buttresses of my soon to be
archaeology, and in the same instant I am far away yet
yet rooted, indentured, carbon draff
and Jo values the worth of his investment
and he gnaws

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