Friday, October 2, 2009

Living in ‘Recession Britain’ in Autumn 2009.

From today I remember a squashed sandwich

Patterned by treading tyres and hunched

away from the elegant debris of a conker sleeping alongside

its side reflecting its ugliness with varnished

wholesome roundness

that has been plumped out, disregarded; now road cold.

It is remembered so I can forget the bills and remembering

and focus hard

looking down at the floor holding

my own hard, fake diamond, my own

disappointment in the chill of darkening days, our own hard to swallow

summer stays limp

squashed and ugly, receding into an unpleasant past.

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