From the Underbook #5

You run away like the usual shadow of my southbound train.
 
Again: bird tracks in ice & I mistook them
for your tiny feet
 
—but I would know you, wouldn’t I, my
casualty
 
among all the world’s sighs.
 
I can stay here if it snows—I have money for coffee.
 
Cold pavement so I’m strewing crumbs behind me, please, I know you’ll
 
Come with me
 
 
& tell me of the other side’s pain flowers, horror glories; I’ll
listen all night.

Front page image by Lotus Carroll.

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