Venetian blinds

there is semaphore in the dark
dotting & dashing between apartments & floors — I
love you from above, have you
an interest in the Modernists? there
is a leather fascist in #227, I
hear Jesus on my Bluetooth, they’ve
discovered transvestites on Mars, I’ve a
gun don’t try to stop me

to stand so still in the
centre of this room
shrouded in cipher where
code slants like shadow in
January words echoing the
grace of plea mistaken

I am my own dime store Ganesh
motionless and the
colour of nuclear detonation


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