Sunday, 12 June 2011


Pushed up behind the bar,
Dishwasher dismantled,
Square of flesh:
A spine in a frame.

Down in the cellar,
One on a beer glass and
Another on a nip.

We suck tongues
And you want to go up

Out of here
For shots and sleep

Almost in my village
Almost under cover

Je vis seule
And when it rises


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