Small Fish
Here -
Where...gilded bark sinks wild animal muddied path..
Where...small fish paper local canal...
Where...plastic scaffolding is blown from derelict shelter..
Where...threatened glance reveals suspicion of the new..
Where...bad health is assumed..
is the place language comes to die.
Glass Light
Here -
Where...anonymous hands trade new and old signatures...
Where...construction is blind..
Where...feeling twists bitter movement..
Where...reflected glass light signposts narrow lane..
Where...knuckled welcomes operate..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
From ' The Mechanical Sun ' ( 2022 )
