… no time to write one today, so here’s a very old teenage one that ties in with the theme of ‘water’:






Pull yourself underwater, wash

the women from your eyes let the big

hum of sepia tickle your ears and fill your lungs with echo.




like a shipwreck rinse the

buzz off your lips let the wet smear of your mouth

slip into platitudes


bloat your emotions, drench me with insincerity

my heart is a dry-fist and I have no thirst left.


(dry-fisted: taking payment for gains and owing for losses)