Sunday, 29 March 2009

From "Mum in Airdrie"

By Fiona Templeton.

drop
stopped in use
storied in use
belie heaven belly believing
become
all good bad
she cubed
a good eyed
a birthbeing
not in so measured
ways
kingsinking
and through her belief asked
when must I
what's next?
still on earth
I'm jecting
easel rubeyes
popped pooped
streetover
readily so she
nighttime has ead
all her ago
and bent summers
pretty dresses
filthy ribs
like legs sticking all up
crowds addresses
bides like steam time cake
all lorn away
what's about
dead dying
snow wounds the garden
a fetish red
and dibe
where getalong
white garden me off
valentime I'm easy praying
blentuse
pansy
I'm her daughter
means
yours beying
make not praise
eliver
friends
come all my round memuse
she's your friend
and warm hooded handed
in the weed garden
not boxes
on her wed dead bed
and everything forged
forced mesmiling
why I'm hillaway
beardless
not a proper cactus

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