• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 08
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what goes around

here and now     all lines are straight
we’re either up or
down     left or right
no will to fight remains
and all that clings     lizard green
in this fake new light
is right-angled     eyes-down     obeisance

we’re starched crisp     starved 
to flat-bellied apathy
deafened     tongue tied     glare eyed
in the blue green
rectangulated and sure
always a safe distance     apart
a tame wolf pack of parallel lines 
drip fed on the pride of lions
you promised we’d become 

you’ll rip out tongues
blinker eyes     set us on your straight
and narrow     but 

we’ll cross your lines
set them alight     dance as they bend
like spent matches     connect again
and again     in rebellious refraction
we’re reclaiming all our curvy thinking
wrong as rain at a summer wedding
cheeky as a child in a pub piss full of drunks
bare and bent as nature intended