Drive one nail out with another,that’s our only hope.
We can’t live any more like birds on a branch,
because the murderous past never stops,
not even at night.
Every day we expect to be accused of unspeakable things and turned adrift.
What am I going to write here?
Something, I hope. A year
or so since I last launched out
in my usual spot
and stopped, because I didn’t
want the usual – which
after all this time with
nothing else happening
I miss. I hear
a high-pitched scattered voic ... More