Artington (I.M. DJC, 1977-2022)
Each Monday morning onthe train differentroutines. Acrossmy world, it is that the way they have changed has changed. Not mode of living. Outside the carriage window, the intothe meadows. It is inaccordance with the depends only on your scale.What is greater drowns the mouse. Oh, mybrother, my
there is a river wider than love are, post-pandemic, different faces not just that things have changed, it single one of us can claim a common Wey at Guildford threatens flood plan for thecityand no onecares. Chaos thisflood?Thesuddeneddy
How can wetalk to each other now?
Stannington (I.M. DJC, 1977-2022)
I feel so guilty, so vain. For every night I you did the same; you had no choice. You lay could only come too fast, too slow. So now, lay down according to the earth. Lay down among into the sun. Lay down among the and in the brittle moors lay down among the stones Lay down among the stonesand lay down among the stones and sleep
awake in fear of pain to come, of course before a greater fear, that death yourmemories, take warmth and cold harbours of the earth's cold core, which warm which settle through your bones letme sing for you my song. my beautiful brother, lay down.
Belmont Road (For Kirsty, June 1990)
Put your arms inside my coat, my in the sodium-orange streetlamps
The neighbour's cat which sees are beautifultoo. Thisstreetwill notbe just unobserved, and we willbe into our first unbeautifulbedsit.Takeme in the imagining of afuture life, right now, here, in the realisation of our long love is no less beautiful for being imagined and look - the pinkcherry blossom beautiful.The street-parked cars are beautiful. one but us is beautiful, and we, we amazing when we have turned into the lane, then in the lane, beautiful on the steps down a fool, like I should care. I'm in love, lost changed from one thing into another, firstsafe haven.
