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Who wouldn’t rather be watching

a film about werewolves instead

of composing friends’ funeral playlists

all day I’ve been suspecting something

like must the 1st thought always

be “slipping out of her brassiere”

or “slipping out of her brassiere”

that nobody calls anyone a liar anymore

and who misses that unambiguousness

that the word “image” has for a long time

been inadequate that back then nobody

went invisible among their references

that the silence of the looking glass was total

that pizzas were delivered through the evening

that nobody’s left eye wept continuously

that one’s ambitions were solely amorous

also tonight would have been perfect weather

to take your girlfriend out for ice-cream

needless to say she remembers it

differently the 2nd thought is

is it possible she’s doing it on purpose

and love back then love was a papercut


ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR

began to write poetry while at the Norwich School of Art and Design, and completed a Masters at Royal Holloway. His poems have appeared in various publications and competitions since 2005. He co-edits the anthology series Stop Sharpening Your Knives, and is currently working towards a PhD at the University of East Anglia. He was a recipient of a 2009 Eric Gregory Award. His first collection, 81 Austerities, was published by Faber in 2012. 



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