The swish

Click  Swish


The child sleeps a sleep
The keys on the piano
play a minimalist swish
The man writing what I am writing had too much avocado for dinner
The mother in the other room trades secondhand robes on the Web
Erik Satie, Gymnopedies
It's quiet at night
It's quite dark just
as our women put babies in cots of linen
Thugs broke into the neighbour's this morning
stole shoes from the big woman living next door
jars of babyfood are reported missing


There is fear in our community
But the child sleeps a sleep
The keys on the piano
play a minimalist swish


Condoms to be found next to benches in playground in Hayes
Remains of absorbent pads played out by debeaked nightingales
at dawn, I suppose.
Unseen are milkmaid braids
Stern portrait of Doge, Joannes Bellinus, hanging in this den whom I am writing
Motorbikes are roaring the westway
Women are against husbands who lonely write at nights
But shutters in pubs are down
And a delivery driver left a take away box on my window sill
But the child sleeps a sleep
The key on the piano
play a minimalist swish
But an MP was hit in the face by a brick
Thirty first of July two thousands and seventeen, he made a public appeal, but I, who I am writing, don't know who was, and my wife doesn't know


We are losing control of our land
but my wife doesn't want to leave me alone.
But on the piano the keys play a swish minimalist
a sleep the child sleeps.


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