Sleeping in a car joint car. your fiction and body
makes me smile. It’s 18:10. And having walked London
all day I was called twice.
Once to let me know that I am
being given seventy pounds back
by someone who took it, then
again to settle my rent
Thirty nineteen. Blasphemy caught in the street like a
pigeon walking home. Unrest! Unrest! Unrest! is what is happening,
yet we do not ask
for anything different.