Dawn a constant drunk, waves modernity on,
Nights in purple doze, while head in rags’ sat,
Mind pats window pane, sky occupied, flat
Hangs the figures that push plague, condensation
Outside is hugged in damaged and breathless car park clots.
Close the arriving scenes depress, far and close by,
Screaming seagulls sing dreams scattered wide,
Cuts the closing of now yesterday’s hope
Soul-bruise rates sit low tonight.
Danger plays path fields bedsheets house
Graceful clock plays dropped fate in loft
Echos hand by hand between beams
Downstairs door lock snapped atoms ring
Floorboards creak quake trepidatious
Eyelids meet strange death amusements
Waiting gun hyped howls air tight
Rail, tracks, interrupted delight.
Metrical rework of earlier poem