Tuesday, 12 April 2011

Poem : Two Stiff Knees

One set

of amazonian patterns


now delicately frozen

by the cold skin

of a soft

January morning.

One gleaming yellow dish

that spills it's liquid

twenty centimetres

above the tree

to the beat of dream machines.

One cigarette and



One bench

for observing the twists of branches


stopping short

like conversations.

One bike chain

conjugating verbs.

One lung

that dances in the footsteps of carbon monoxide.

One lung

that's out of breath.

One shoe lace symphony

tapping out

the staccato anagrams

of silence.

One cold finger

with it's twin lingering

in December.

Uneaten pigs

in unmade beds.

One brief stroll

over the fallen constellations

of previous pavements.

One tree

whistling the theme tune

of nine o'clock.

One thousand suspended


introducing themselves

to the honest stare of a still breeze

like acrobats.

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