Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era

Marge, let’s send a sadness telegram.
I roamed under it as a tired, nude Maori.
No trace, not one carton.
Kay, a red nude, peeped under a yak.
Was it a car or a cat I saw?
Amen, icy cinema.
Nurse, I spy gypsies. Run.
No, I tan at a nation.
Flee to me, remote elf.
Eva, can I stab bats in a cave?
Oozy rat in a sanitary zoo
Loops at a spool.

from Between Two Windows (Carcanet, 2012), Oli Hazzard 2012, used by permission of the author and the publisher

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