transglobal

Feet scratched by spaces
between railway sleepers
flint follows clinker
splintered wood, age on empire
north and west, follow fallow
land and water-log sips
mangrove soon parches
each border, arid is all – then
seas are split wide open
ice is booming on the hull.
Something screams beneath
ankles clutching inner thighs
dented by rivets
upstairs, more wood crumbles
miles are thrown behind and
coughed out back. Straights are crossed

Still, she navigates as she did
home is
lit by neon tubes
and still
signs lurch overhead
saying still
the same
you want more,
you are not enough
still

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About Benjamin Norris

Published writer of short stories, long stories, poems. Well received art critic and cultural commentator for Berlin magazines. Collaborator with operatic societies. Co-writer of fictional historic psycholinguistic journals. Lecturer of architecture and art history at a Budapest University. View all posts by Benjamin Norris

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