Postcards from the fridge.

April -

Cherry

Miscarried

Life, I whisper Into her tiny blonde ear, Made you spread them In a dust cart Somewhere in Slough And now,cramped tight Crabbed with fear You think of carnies, Circus folk
Cherry

16 Guitars

Your house Has lots of instruments, You show me the Steiner That your dad likes to play He should have been A professional. Your house Has 16 guitars, A silver dobro, A double bass.

Chapter

By eight Linotte spits out 800 words Like cherry stones They hit the white Such is the excitement! All these shapes Fit together Black out The screen Or the paper-
Cherry

Date.

And it is coming round Like the pointed arms Of that dancer on telly Tick-tick-tick I know it's a nasty programme But I was moved. Although you are now Twenty girls ahead

Feathers

The eiderdown Disgorges I could use it And say 'Where there was comfort And warmth, Now there is just Mess. In my mouth. Up my nose.'

Drops.

Push the perforation On the daily strip Each dint a sugared drop- Pale mint. A spot to stop fluid However thick. Many dints and days Strip you down now To the marrow.