This poem has appeared in Granville.
death was an amateur business here
he said to me pot bud
hey heh come on gotta experiment
two scrappy parrots
the florist giving way to
strange space
between crushed social skills
and the dancing nerve centre
for a parking lot
someday
I'll write a poem
about this place
about coffeecup vulvas
rainy glossed line ups
and evenings full of
new fusion
sepiate serviettes
and a calm that elongates elides
makes the night mine