Morning on & on

Been rummaging—again—through the poems I wrote on my return to England. Found this one, with a refrain, a repetition, & repetition is very much puncturing the days without mercy. I don’t recall the exact details of my disposition at the time of writing this. Poems tend to fall into a constellation of activity, a particularly…

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firefly

firefly ㅕ instead of reading Heidegger or Edward Young i listen to Suzanne sung by Simone her piano, subdued as the gloaming, the distant neon steps of stars her minimal rhythm that fills limbs with move & sing along as throatily as possible in imitation of the nightingale Simone caged in her ribs stomp like…

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