Un

We will discuss disconnections

such things we must trust

in this poker face card place
of our marriage discourse

We will flip expectations
like a shark wrists the deck

We will turn the dealt hand held
counting down to slow death

Our marriage is skewered
on the spun-turned spit

here both parts are scorched
now the heat has ripped

Our future fixes divide

to avoid offspring hurt

No one to blame
as the pain turns to burn

BST

British Summertime
day one
as seen from this flint field

high above the Winterbourne’s
estate dictated course

above the rush of the bypass

that continuos inland tide

Here I listen for the reduced birds
as seagulls are distance summoned
by the hip-jiggered tractor’s
turn of furrow

You have walked on
with me left here
above this valley landscape
with an extra hour of light

as if the clocks had stopped

ความรัก (Love)

This Thai beachside paradise

of dribbled concrete streams
and well-kept swept lawns

is like the constructs of love
which also require maintenance
of surfaces and hid beams

which too need an ear to creaks
and underfoot complaints

Left unattended

even for a day

and the autumn leaves
will fill the pathways

The beach will rustle with plastic
and the drains’ stink will stay.