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Writer's pictureJacob Davies

THE THRONE OF DYSTOPIAN DAYS

Hello! Hello! Hello! Goodbye?


Sigh.


Here we are. Somehow.

Despite of all our best intentions, it is unbelievably twenty twenty twenty twenty twenty twenty-two.


My newest catastrophe of art will be available to collect from your local pharmacy this summer. A free pack of Diazepam is advised with every order. I am currently hurriedly editing all two point six million pages of utter madness.


But yes, my next book is well on the horizon. It will be in your hands sooner than you will ever be happy.


Until then, here is 'What I see in dark nights' from that collection.




WHAT I SEE IN DARK NIGHTS

My thoughts and orations are

Welcomed by the streets

What I see in dark nights

Is a reason to be alive


Mixed with wind and rain and shame

An element of anticipation

What I see in dark nights

Is a reason to be alive


My soul cries exclamations and begs for an explanation

Of past summer mornings, winter evenings

What I see in dark nights

An answer as to why


The smell of smoke brings

November, September, never!

What I see in dark nights

An answer as to why


Love has driven out of the door

The 21st century had no need for it, anymore

What I see in dark nights

A place to miss saying goodbye


I am becoming a shadow

Perhaps I died, with you

A few months ago?


Despite how much

You know I have tried

To cling on to what has gone

Memories. They fossilise.


I am becoming a shadow

Perhaps I died, with you

A few months ago?"


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