V i n c e n t   O ' C o n n o r

 

Nothing exists

 

Nothing exists

between the playground, graveyard,

and ghost estate,

but a barren green, ley-lined

brown by boys who kick

a broken, brown bottle

along the dusty ground.

 

 

 

Imagine

 

Imagine

blue sky,

or red or green

or this coffee shop,

or that old man

sat,

in that chair by that window, or the sound

of the page,

just turned.

 

 

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