| In Paradise Tom Pickard |
in paradise I was ordered to improvise confident of my co-operation they paid in advance it's the only sweatshop in town with a vacancy |
| Front |
there is something so familiar in what is said I stop and listen, a traveller's monologue of dark moaning trees, chopped waters, deserted street corners, randomly disturbed light, raised curtains, doors flung open, sudden precipitous avenues, far away dogs brought near it is insistent secures my inner ear we pick up the old conversation neither of us understands |
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