Retreat

If I were able
I would devour this city surrounding me
And dine on Nature;s desserts that would
Remain;
Crack the crust of this concrete
Main course,
Suckle upon the dewy grasses,
Take the fond toffee boughs between
My teeth and sticky fingers and

Pull -

Back!
With the bitter taste of her ruin,
The raped heart of her fruit clasped
In my sanguine hand,
Dripping, dripping
On the tarmacked lawn -
On which I stand
The prisoner, the assassin,
For the moment full.

Adrian Hoad-Reddick

 

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