A Clip from Tomorrow

Who saw us sitting here?
Drunken with details,

slumped over like cheap
dolls on shelves. We’ve been

watching the same news
broadcast since Friday, and

you’ve decided that you
like short-women. And stamps.

And those final scenes from
Jaws where death becomes

something real and vivid and
red. Clouds burst against our

window like words on paper.
Blurring the rise of all winter snow.

Separating HUMAN and NATURE
like we would separate old magazines.

I feel like a large ocean.
Vast and inscrutable.

About the author

Alex was recently chosen as one of the 85 Commended Foyle Young Poets of The Year (UK). This is his first publication, and he…

Read the full bio

Issue 17 · March 2013

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