Collective lock in

[This poem carries a health warning]

Scratchings from

the ‘party wall’

demented rats

they haunt

odd hours:

& the ‘boom’

of demolition ball

shatters early morning.

Two doors away

they build;

hard hats

yellow hi viz


sex lives


my morning


I’m writing

in the dark

blind in both


out of control

cars, rev,

down roads

never travelled.

‘Us writers, a

solitary lot’

they brand us

as we blister:

peel apart forgo

free speech

worry how


our words are.

Dark scratching

party wall

rats’ bicker.

‘Our house

is not our home:’

nations rise

& crumble

lines in the sand

etched by strangers:

here immobile

in our beds

we die by

‘age number.’

Blind in

both eyes

my mouth is


I’m writing

in my sleep

screaming for


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