is the white white enough    always the worry
carpet rucked up under the door    a jug 
smashed    sheets of paper disordered on the carpet 
sit in the miserable pyjamas    explain

this laden appearance    the ailing camellia
raging at the washing up    the front door 
gets more difficult    the telephone 
unrequited    bereft persistence    stand 

at the picture window with one sock on
dead spider and scuffed skirting board    my sweetheart 
sleeps in a hotel bed    a sad walk 
through the shitty end of town    thrown objects 

tickle the walls    the sink frizzante-ripples    
the soap rattles on its magnetic button    
the ground vibrates    look    tractors!    yellow lights!    
my heart    spilling over    cherry pink    a demolition crew