FLAT IN THE FLAT FLAT SANDWICH

Flat in the flat flat sandwich.
On the bridge sat in the pink chair arms on arms looking out over the east side of the city.
The gable end of a friend’s house propping up the street when the light is good at night it’s join-the-dots for the passionate and independently minded.
They said what I do is a way of being touched without touching. I said, ‘you got it wrong you’re missing the point...’
...it’s them again isn’t it? - threatened by a baby that isn't theirs.