hemisphere of shadows by Fran Lock

the curly mind linguistically innovative poetry - weird & risky

baby, doom’s slender evangelist, you came out of the night. out of my own
snaggletoothed imbalance, you came, when the black balloon was terror’s
chosen metaphor, and the black balloon was everywhere. no one knew
the world was ending. buttonholes predicted poppies; red kept getting on you,
with its shamefaced sensibility. history had carved a cruel act out of flesh. we
were taking refuge in a wound. it’s friday, with r.e.m. on the radio. dejected
data. clickbait, interpreted like entrails. money, our skinny green disease. i’m
typing pay mewhat you owe me, you mouldy posho fuck, but no, i know, he
never will. somewhere, over the rainbow’s phobic pouting spectrum, there is
a place for us. a french café in soho. free wi-fi, and my bandwidth is a parachute,
the signal sings a rainbow too. reading jeremy, his similes like sequins. screen
burn. the eye’s unsplendid choreography…

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