it isn’t in black and it isn’t in any tree even on that day the first bud cracks i’m not it and nor is he and the space between us isn’t even when it’s festooned in words like bunting it’s not in butter or inside any tear even if it’s on the rapist’s own cheek [...]

i’m dreaming of a little brown horse I love which died i’m dreaming of a bright day in which he strolls back into my life cracks me on the skull with the lethal underside of his jaw worries with his rubber lips the front of my shirt and comes down systematic snapping off the buttons spitting each one out back then [...]

it looked a day like any other: the plane trees whispered same old same old and july came hot off the fat arch road i went to the co-op to buy food for my dog and it looked a day like any other until the cashier plucked the box from my basket and looking every word into [...]