Sunday, 6 November 2011

CENTRAL THROB

not quite sure
what against
my head did crash
or what did shift
my equilibrium
to bitumen
or sand

from pickled wakefulness
to shifty drink dawning
absolving people
to become acquainted
with their knees

and to see their faults
as if another’s
to see their girl behind
in another’s dress
hair and rings

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