no-one hears when you call like wind
cares if you live
build the wall. the wall.
keep yr mouth shut
after the night you’ve had
dreams give it away.
there’s something to be said for.
nothing to be said, oh, city –
london, say, bustling w the dead,
fillings: voices billowing,
after which, you, rising over the balustrade
like a moon – *
how much is remembered anyway.
i remember like flakes of burnt paper.