blue fire

Blue fire

The temperature of the village

falls around me

someone is getting high

down the road

the gate says that it’s time for night;

i go back home

to an article i should be writing

and ask

the name

the boon

the price

and say:

you’re a beard

you’re a dog,

the clouds milk themselves with black easy light

the astronaughts, the kisses, and the voles behind

my house come

along too;

and no one tells you when the opium will come

but when it does

but when it does;

the beds eat themselves with calmness

the friends are friends

the lovers are lovers.


is Raoul Moat in a boat. His first words were ‘Newky Brown’. As well as being our most prolific writer, René also creates graphic art, paintings and screenplays.

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