Before you, I was,



thinking about the

giddy children of 2017 –

wrapped up in flashing

light and Disney.

Today’s horrors are

now my slime of

yesterday –


With you as me

but free of pills.


My future thoughts are

a bucket of tears –

liquid platonic love.

Puke of a sick moon

gathering fumes.

I think about

the unordinary

as a necessary fluid,

oozing from the

statement stars,

waltzing like a care-free

ghost on a

French retreat.

And then I became greedy


Like those films.

Like a diamond vase

filled with copper coins

sweating trust

on ugly heavy palms.

Sweeter than words,

candied raindrops travel the


to open mouths beneath

the overheads

that carry

this invincible city

from A to Z.

Waist-deep in confession,

though I could not swim

through the

deep waterfall of

a commercial soft drinks pop.

Not with this body zapped –

Active –

Not with electric veins

so valiant like her skin,

that’s smooth and ripe –

both black and white

pretty like Chanel or Gucci.






zack robinson
Picture Rupert Loydell

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