17 September 2025
in vein
acrimony in aegis
pour power on your scorn
the apostrophe
of fate, it’s all belonging
and only belonging
that matters
tense island of inlets
countenance nothing but
tomorrow
and even then
be sceptical
for the earth has not turned
trumpet of complexity
your strains are futile
and dimensionless
beneath your labile suffrage
words grow fat
they liver the sunrise