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
Sam Riviere
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.