Unlocking Letters
Reams of dead letters hide correspondence beneath purposeful cuts and folds; the contents of their written past locked tight behind the paper-thin veneer of this
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Reams of dead letters hide correspondence beneath purposeful cuts and folds; the contents of their written past locked tight behind the paper-thin veneer of this
Fish can’t shrug, fish can’t cry, fish cannot get mad; fish can’t sulk fish can’t frown, or tell us if they’re sad. But fish can
An accidental echo on the line oscillates with the baritone of your misplaced song. Waves beneath waves traverse wires crossed with the rising beat of
Abandoned at the mouth of your shelter you quivered apprehensively at our approach, crying out to be held as we proclaimed the exception of your
Ignoring classical concepts of exploration and exploitation you strategise your advance across fabricated labyrinths that embrace your occupation. With reckless abandon your feathery limbs race
Sheathes of see-through cloth shimmer in the Mediterranean sun, soaking their ripening cargo in waves of rippling heat. Their glistening torsos dripping beads of sweat
Mechanical eyes drift across horizons, capturing hidden choreographies on the patchwork cloth of your vast abode. Grey on green on green on grey, your pixelated
Golden rays of winter’s sun pierce through the roof-shingle of the channel-sky, forbidden warmth enfolding frozen robes that shudder at the touch of an assumed
Deep beneath the dunes fossilised roots whisper golden memories of emerald lagoons. When sapphire seas lapped tenderly at knotted feet, bathing sunken stems with the
Ancient forces dredge secrets from beneath the seabed, undulating stimuli unearthing memories of a long-buried past. Rising and falling with the passing tide dark shadows