falling to the floor, a flight of gloves – by Jane Burn

 

a sink, cobwebbed with bubbles     hands
coined with freckles     a dishcloth approaches
lockets of spilled milk     the door, booked open

like a half read thing     a draughty wing of calendar
lifts, slices the week with forgotten things
by the basket, the gathered throat of a wet sock

pungent oranges jewelled with smell
an umbrella hooked like a dead life     scribbled
words on an envelope scrap     a letterbox

tongued with junk     thumbed glasses make
a story of use     a judgement of wax reminds
the room of scuppered light

 

 

 

Jane Burn’s poems have featured in magazines such as The Rialto, Under The Radar, Butcher’s Dog, Iota Poetry and many more, as well as anthologies from Emma Press, Beautiful Dragons, Emergency Poet and Seren. Her pamphlets include Fat Around the Middle, published by Talking Pen and Tongues of Fire published by BLER Press. Her first collection, nothing more to it than bubbles is published by Indigo Dreams. 

 

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