Friday, 17 April 2015

2015.15 - Detritus

Last night she found
A threadbare tennis ball
(and a penis)
By the side of the road.

Today the man with
Cosmos eyes circled
(and circled)
At the top of our street.

The penis was attached
But she took the ball home
(it sits on our sofa)
But that's not what I'm trying to say.

Maybe tomorrow
We'll find the spokes
(of the circle man)
Finally drifted, spinning no more

No-one has claimed
The mirror forlorn
(all bells and whistles)
That squats near the top of our street.


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