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Kenn Rushworth Apr 2016
Wait and walk hollow in hollows
Above the earth
Army green, army green,
The silent army of silent trees
Aside desolate roads
Hear the empty voice that goes:
“I’m the one that follows you home”

Sit and talk hollow in hollows
Inside the world
Lily white, lily white,
Funeral flowers **** the pets at night
In unopened windows
Hear the empty voice that goes
“I’m the feeling that keeps the doors closed”
Kenn Rushworth Apr 2016
I stare into the room,
A wreck on a stone step,
Eyes strained, peering inwards.

“Oh don’t worry, nothing else is living here.
Please come in.”

Beckoned by a shawl,
Inhabited by a face that is never remembered,
Into a front room where the shadows had shadows.

I hesitate to sit,
Then the cold pours through me
As something moves
Deep
Within
The House

“I thought you were alone here?”

“No dear, I just said nothing else was living…”
Kenn Rushworth Apr 2016
Day after day the days will unfurl
and from every table is a view of the world,
Around both the people perpetually are
Crossing their fingers when crossing their hearts,

Then stumble and falter as they rise
To yearn for lost time but then prophesize,
Of instances when car headlights will flicker
In meaningless Morse code from the foot of the river,

As calendars die and memories erase,
A single year rolls down my face.
The awkward sibling of 'Nowheres'
Kenn Rushworth Jun 2015
Single years roll down my face,
I send smoke signals to teenagers
Lost in the sound of their personal midnight,
Changing their names to ‘lost’ and ‘gained’
and remain unquantifiable
in the loose streets of halogen New York,
or the loose streets of halogen anywhere,

Some places you don’t imagine, only experience,
Some places you don’t  visit but get sent,
Some places demand sacrifice of years you don’t have,
Some places are just prayers and graffiti,

And here, here
The railway bridge adorned,
with tags and padlocks
and ****** fluids with different stories,
I see all the streets and city embodied,
She has a face like blunt force trauma,
Her legs are seductive and her hands
are covered in blood,
Her lover’s smile is an open wound.

In these places there is a fire in every tower,
In these places there is something sharp in every pocket,
In these places there is a sad drawing in your child’s notebook,
In these places there is always a ticking growing louder.

A foetus in handcuffs beneath a middle aged man
hanging from a traffic light;
Incidents unrelated,
Become dead words in piles of boxes,
That don’t realise they tell us how
this city or satellite town
is gathering the dirt for its own burial mound.
Kenn Rushworth Jun 2015
Some days we are but noise
beneath a silent sky,
Waiting and wanting to be heard,
The creek of an old machine still proving it's worth,
The light of a dying star illuminating the faces of people we love,
Framed, perpetually, by the world.



(Inspired by the Photography of Clive  Roughley)
Kenn Rushworth Jun 2015
What I’m really thinking,

What I’m really thinking,

Does anybody want to know?

I don’t want to, but I do.


I think of endings,

I think of other arms,

I think of once-fond memories,

And how they now bring harm,


I try to think of reason,

I try to feel worth,

I try to force away the demons

From every crossroads on the earth.


What I’m really thinking

Becomes other peoples notes,

What I’m really thinking

Lets water into boats,

What I’m really thinking

Is something to endure,

What I’m really thinking,

Today I’m not so sure.
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