Verity Spott. Poet. 'He'd make a big show of sticking the two torn halves in his wallet. When we buried him, Frank and I tossed the last two halves he gave us into his grave. Here ' 'Between the two torn halves of my soul are cities and climates' 'Place those two torn halves of the map together again and you are re-enacting the history of the Silurian to Devonian periods' 'The two torn halves promise but never deliver full restitution'
Wednesday, 3 February 2016
Spreading a Rumour
Whatever you do don't wake up the river
cuts and buffetts the soul. Go across
don't let your eyes fall open with a bang
snap your nostrils shut. A wedding.