1 | 2 | 3
But I would
While you are still
ambulant
a word now precious
and precarious
an ambulance of fear
sirens through the frame.
I ask without wanting to beg
but I would
for your notebooks
the way you talk now.
Others circle
for your posters
collective history
an exhibition
and another to come.
A book.
I say, ‘We’ll be going
through your rubbish next.’
But I would.
Contents | Previous Author | Next Author | About this Author