Your love seems my tragic and treacherous victory Shivering scents seeps through your flower mouth Am I wrong to feel concern and sympathy? Broken memory of mine

Watch me shiver Around your cold hands A dash of poison Sends our souls to sleep Do you remember Our love to the moon? I beg you, don't leave me Alone in my balcony Lost is my life

And for the rest of that week, When phones went bleep,

A grown-up's skirt from Spitalfields office black with some kind of origami sash - I could never figure how to tie it without looking like a bunny girl or gaping.

Monday, March 28- Lake Powell, Paige, Az

Just going for a walk. A hungry boy. Amphetamine eyes. Through the dark. The drizzled, slant streets of this city. The finest city. With the near dead dogs, wailing. The painted up girls,

Why don’t you leave me? Go your own way, display your tacky, outdated fares: rattle you markets, strut your fountains, roll out acres of your stairways,

An experiment. A poem made up from first lines of my other poems.