1927
6.101
11.iv.25
fled on foot
my escape from
words
for wise surprise
from the day spin
into the picture
my escape
into the world
and from
grim pile
and tell
tiptoes too
into the wish of where I am
my work is to show so
it’s not by accident we’re here
under coin
beneath a note of promise
(cross cheque, make ache my own)
ready set
today
no munitions fall on me
life’s suffering, if you will
and see the ribs show through
we eat the others here
I know that I’m the damage
plant a flag to claim country
and sing into the dream wilds
just as if they were my own
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