chasing yesterday, now can never be

morning has the

gleam of old chrome,


drenched with

illustrated snares

why don’t you catch

me there

amongst the

aphid dead?

undo the pages -

i won’t offer

stood up to the neck

with yesterday’s dusk

heckled by impatient


chasing their fingerprints

i want all over

the morning of

another archive,

grey hedgerows

persist with

glistened murder

traces emerge snowdrop phantoms

edges where

voltages quicken,

hedgerows laced

with loneliness, bring

out their theatrical dead

the buds i thought were spring proceed with rust

morning brings

me no further.

hedgerows are

pure empty

no bee would fumble over

put time under

won’t this minute

be over soon?

i hate all clocks

their passion for wasting,

taking me atom by


i’ve worsened thru’

daylight, only sleep

has the empire

i roam, how i

stride it well

almost submerged

from day lit self

chasing itself into


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