Monday, 15 June 2009

poem of the day

Space Invaders

The catastrophist flashes shadow
Puppets, throwing gang signs
Like baseballs and laughing.

Too many trials docking these
Monorails, and you say, ‘keep
Your eye on the ordinary ones,’

As if they are of any danger to me.
We both know what it meant,
that night you left your copy of
Conran on my night stand.

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