HILL

going up bottle shop/need endless tobacco tonight.

been

writing

and

drinking

and . . . the sky is massive/i’m on a hill.

above

the

faded pink and filthy phone box with fire melted glass in circles

the

massive

sky

is large and powder grey under white and nuclear blue.

hill so high

i

can almost reach

the

huge moon/a low and translucent ball.

i am a castle.

i am an island fortress.

i stand IMPREGNABLE.

the new dance hall where they give sports massages

stands out

from

the

small

houses

like

a

berthed mothership.

EVERYTHINGS GOING TO BE OK

EVERYTHINGS GOING TO BE OK

someone said

when i was deep in the dumb parade.

home down the hill.

i write

and

i drink.

i listen to guitars to write down their melancholy thrill.

things are ok/things are ok

but

ok

isn’t aiming very high.