3
v©
(O
A click, a gap,
a dead bird on the doorstep,
a cloud shaped like an angel
- and bit by bit
the airwaves swell and fill
with piped laughter; a slug
presses its pale belly to the pane.
A tendril of ivy taps,
a gutter drips. Bees wake,
eat their slow way out between bricks.
And then the walls are down,
every door open and swinging.
Wires snake across the hearth-rug
to the jump and flash
of strobe-light. Where there was moon
a rocket flares. A kiss of lipstick smears
a glas that isn't yours, a stain
unrolls its royal purple in the hall,
there's a pile of strangers' coats
where your bed should be; bodies
lurch and keel over, mouths blink off and on.
