Rue de Paradis, Paris (2012)
Here is where the bullet
removed its copper jacket,
where it knocked on glass
with splayed fingers.
Where the tablecloth has
spread itself out in fear.
Where the menu lies
cracked open, undecided.
I am a poet of unlove
I wear shades on blind dates,
I would hate to see what you really look like.
When you say let’s talk about love, I expound
on the reproductive habits of reptiles.
I quote stats and not the stars in your eyes.
I am into the shape of your assets, financial,
Continue reading “The Poet of Unlove”
Snapshots from the streets of Edinburgh, Scotland. September, 2012.