I’ve noticed that despite his usual insistence on neatness, throughout the spring and early summer, my neighbour always mows around the patches of primroses, leaving squares of renegade grass surrounding the flowers. I guess he must like primroses.

I first noticed you like a fly,
through a haze of broken glass
which made you look
like a thousand different people.

a ray of light
then the
frantic collision
of unseen forces
in smoky sadness