…

scribbled sequentially
in a rusty cable car

halfway in between
the valley & the mountain

apart from verse six
which was borrowed from a dream

that your country cousin had
about your uncle’s chin

& verses one to five
which a gibbon improvised

on a dirty qwerty keyboard
from the centuries turn

then verse seven was flinched
verbatim from the back

of a pack of pork scratchings
in nineteen ninety two

then the rest just appeared
on the back doorstep

one frostless morrow
with love from trad-anon

so none at all hails
from my hinterland’s shores

but the english pigeons flinched
the phoenician alphabet

…