The first drafts of my collaboration with poet Ana Seferovic…


Oyster rain       lustrous pour – shelling


on the window pane –


inside the room


it sounds as if a train is pulling


away & surging


(forward /onwards) into


this unrefined earth:

a nacreous landscape of water



(on & through) the mottled air


like an old French mirror – like a hand


which has dug the field – like a tongue


which has lost a home – like a language


which has shaped its holes by absence


which has drifted like a wet feather


missing from the bird.



is here                   but not quite here


it is not there       either


and yet                   was


once –                   irised


inscribed in layers of childhood


nostalgia                 or day dreams

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