• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 10
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Aren’t as pronounced as
the circle, in my view,
which leaves this window.

It isn’t too late, they said,
to catch the reading,
I focus on a rotund warning,

And trip over this bag,
Which no one makes a claim
For. I’m too late, I said,

holding a pen too
Close to my eye,
Which, of course,

I puncture by accident.
‘I’m afraid there are possible
delays on this line, please be
patient’ is the call.

I asked if the event had a zoom link,
but falls to dull ears, and there’s
no connection, blame it
on the last election, they said.

Labour wanted to socialise
the Wi-Fi, they said, a
radical shearing lines,



just before they meet
at this platform. We
got maybe hours to

pass, so I do an
impression of
machinery and

hope this gets
things moving