Crow Time Feeding
Here -
Where...recycled daytime hiding is scripted into knifed tree bark..
Where...reckless noise making is brutal and metal knuckled..
Where...vape bloodied cafe gardens groan beneath rusted leather footstep and betrayed seating..
Where...crow time feeding is weed killer gravelled..
Where...small group silence rejects courtyard posters and charity reclaimed allotment..
is the place language comes to die.
Daytime Sleeping
Here -
Where...shielded discount aisles are glued together with spiced smile and free news..
Where...stickered metal bollards herd cheap early morning trainer shoe..
Where...daytime sleeping is bagged with tourist litter..
Where...each stuttering step is guided by habit..
Where...whiskered waterway trees hang on singing electric wire..
is the place language comes to die.
Deaf Ear
Here -
Where...loyalty is sought and funded through dark glass..
Where...anger is buttery..
Where...doorstep begging is hasty and youthful..
Where...brave words are thrown away with cheap lager and soapy gritted water..
Where...curled up broken yard hideaways become legend..
is the place language comes to die.
