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Interlusions places
between places
Travel Lodge in the Watford gap
stairwell in a multistorey
places you spend most time
home from home
the yardstick calibration
of broken surfaces.
You could find
a way out through the sewers a key
a secret garden you could find
a white room
walls made of paper light shines through
write on the walls
or fold this poem up
into a small square swallow
words to darken your pathology
a Taoist amulet
you draw out possessed
then eat after years of prayer at the shrine
it marks you out a beacon to evil.
Words on a map
to exit the city checkerboard
to mountains wordless, unmapped
dog-boy in a Chilean mountain cave
escaping the streets
with fifteen wild dogs
no record
retinas reflect no headlamps
his name could not be named
births and deaths
a closed book.