Unmaking 

I have sunk too deep

steep tea, listen for free
to the corner flat scream French

upstairs they debut the new music

in boxy cramped Victorian damp bedrooms
wear midriff singlets cut with hair scissors
never vacuum.

The girls nail varnish walls green boys sand skateboards “for sale”
I didn’t say hi the first time now it’s too late.

No one will say goodbye to Summer so she lingers like a weird wanted relative.

People try hard to get a tan which looks like they haven’t tried hard to get a tan.

It’s too cold for you here I think

trees rustle louder. The lightest slightest breeze distresses dressing

I don’t own any fur.

I eat blue cashmere and stare through the afternoon.

This will be the make

This will be the unmaking of me.

Me, Me, Me, Me

More than I could ever be.
Less is more, more or less.
Less is bore, less is yes
No?

Toes in grass, sky empty and silent.

Paper thoughts: The rate at which we currently consume the earth’s natural resources is unsustainable.

I am learning how to live on less with more chance of change.

It isn’t always famine or feast you say

the unmaking of me won’t make a maddened you.
Sorry your parcel will be late through.

In dreams I see the landscape 

as it is when I am not there.

Good-morning, sleep well when you do. 

 
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