20140722

Alice Allan


Waiting room

They have you
in a white bed

I am
where the magazines
are no one’s

coverless

across the blank car park a spire
waits with me

in the white sky
that holds up the planes

the white sky is stretching
around its birds
I am

with the magazines’
loud nothing

the spire turns
brown to black

birds settle
down from the orange sky

I am
folded.



Alice Allan is a Melbourne-based poet with work published in Rabbit, Cordite and Southerly, among others.
 
 
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1 Comments:

Blogger Raymond Farr said...

Nice movement from line to line--lots of surprising connections! Great job!

12:38 AM  

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