I just rediscovered this poem I wrote years ago about a coffee barista. It's nice to be reunited.
Something different about his cry / two wide eyes in the dark / the tang of sick scratching the air
Look how firmly it sits on whatever glass table spans the horizon. A continent of billowing sunlight, shifting walls of explosion
Looking through my archives, I realised I've never posted the poems I wrote for the poet/artist collaboration I did with Timo Rannali back in 2005. So here they...