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L Perry Feb 2018
i broke my legs and

        threw myself across your back
                  in the hope we'd soar.
L Perry Feb 2018
Before you collapsed
back to the blank face of Ys,
back onto damp sands,

just for an instant,
             I stopped. (in my desk chair)
and saw
your spires, heard your swollen bells
                           and smiled in the sun.

You rose in earnest,
sang to the horizon(!)
the casual and the causal.

the waves eddied around
you and suddenly,
as easily as you drew
from the seabed,

you let me know,

everything that matters
(one day)
I was taken aback by this piece today,
I had to write something about it.
L Perry Feb 2018
there are a lot of angles
            to a dead fish:

for instance -- I miss you and loved you for who you were


I take responsibility for your passing.
(I stuffed you with pellets
I raised you in
the cruel waters of rural Australia
Alkaline screamed through your lungs
While I watched in wonderblivion)


I thank you for returning me
to stone turning and badly drawn animals
and most valiantly
(and at a poor cost)
getting me to pick the pen up again.
Rest in Peace Vonnegut the Fantail Goldfish, December 2017 -January 2018.
L Perry Dec 2017
Here fell a water drop
taking his time
with few up to see him
he lays there supine

though this phenomenon
taunted my tears
I can't help but miss him
in this midnight blear.
L Perry Dec 2017
I miss you Autumn,

your auburn leaves make death look

graceful on the path.
L Perry Dec 2017
You notice things;

Specks on the wall
+ ceiling fan dialogue

                                                       ­      or finger-painting behind
                                                          ­                     your eyelids.

  You writhe,
organise your day.

Still you probe the sheets;

                             "Will I ever get there?"

In your fugue.
In your alarm-clock glow.
Thrown together pretty quickly last night :/
L Perry Nov 2017
The fold-out mattress is a ***** tonight,
Sheets spilling over the side-
I'm awake,
Stiff in the dark,

And nothing sings on Baylis anymore,
And the silence stones me,
And I reach for a soul,
And she rolls over,

This is it.

Wasted in the summer,
Work by the morning,
Left to spoil by the night,

Writing pretty letters backwards in the bus window,
Feeling ****** when she doesn't see them,
Sixteen and blue,
Grabbing all that glitters.

— The End —