Claridges House Red
hyacinth someone else's City
face raining across the border
fantasies of power chthonic
most things are naked
& afraid crawling inside
a seller’s hand everything passes
before us as beautiful then tragic
then X commodity A = Y commodity B
or anti-light hors d'oeuvre this living
The Love of Art, even people
will not come to be counted
in the sinks of Tall White Houses
in the who fucks who & who does worse
small bronze venus flytrap
gently ironising out someone's mouth
singled down as a property
part of the infinity of the poet
