I lived by a river with tides unresolved
Under the house a sewer under a wooden board it ran
Sometimes a tapping sometimes a hum in the night like a motor
I lived a time in the basement I lost the sense of what sounded
And to which sign I should be such as lover or hermit or the boatman
I didn’t want to keep the things that happen
Like stacking things together like money on a table
I wanted things to leak away I really did
One window light one window dark the same things over
The emotions which are easily found collected on me
Like they say I would hide by not letting things run this way or that
Nothing got better which did not float away on the river’s rise
The water changes you every day
It was strange how I went into things
And thought everything was: I want more of this

About the author

Kris Spencer grew up in a village outside of Bolton, England. He has studied, worked, and lived in Hull, Cincinnati, Oxford, and the Bailiwick…

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Issue 24 · Autumn 2021

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