Monday, 25 August 2008


aisles like trenches
my hair fanning out
like a bulbous helmet

turning corners under halogen
every stranger an unmet enemy
carrying baskets of rusty steel

put bread in the bag
don’t look up
at the enemy general

price-checking milk grenades
that will go off
before I use them

step shaky-footed out of
the trenches
watch rats scatter

1 comment:

Ryan A. Johnson said...

yes, yes
this one is much better