Other news in the oxygen of
Our neighbours, in kitchens
Rattling the blinds and smell
Of burning, between sheets and spilt
All over Helen's table
We are trundling up and
Down the byways of this end,
The horizon felt so near a few
Years ago even though the sky
Resembled Helen's ashtray
After rain, buoying
Ashy particles on freshwater
Water - I was the quiet one
Who looked and saw endless
Reflections - a Higher Power's
Air and influence touched rock
Bottom and bounced back upwards
By our cold and tepid sunsets,
Cold and transparent 7ams.
Flaccid locks hang bared
Through teeth in the smoking area,
Where airwaves disperse hailing
The first choice of guru, and grateful,
We are so forced to say
'It's not that great either, is it?'
When the older ones left - Helen,
Priyesh, Marya - I climbed
The wire fence that separated us
From the motorway. I finally
Made time to see the woods
On that side, now as tangled metal
Keeps guard with snowdrops,
There are whispers of some kind
Of movement.
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