Much of the song is from roosting crowds;
the occasional bird goes hurrying home,
aware of curfew. On day minds.
Colour thickens, depth of field flattening.
The geological and human ambiguate.
Once more the harbour’s dry,
sky full of stretched rain udders
following each other’s arses
over upside-down hills.
Lights glare in night desert.
----
Lawrence Upton
Dept of Music
Goldsmiths, University of London
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