act of stealth troubled pleasure Small circles glittering idly in the moon heaving through the water like a swan huge peak, black and huge. Towered up between me and the stars trembling oars dim and undetermined sense Anaphora of no huge and mighty forms do not live Like living men trouble to my dreams. legs it probably armed, possibly not myself and somebody else and somebody else sort of inside out image of agony tosses his guts carted off blood-shadow stays the drink and the drugs won't flush him out here... when I close my eyes not... in some distant, sun-stunned, sand-smothered land bloody life in my bloody hands Paper that lets in the light could alter things Koran If buildings were paper... easily they fall away on a sigh... of the wind The sun shines through their borderlines might fly our lives like paper kites let the daylight break through... the shapes that pride can make living tissue... never meant to last spasms of red... blockade of yellow bias Sellotape bandaged around my hand steeled the softening of my face words flattened, rolled, turned into felt, slowly melting like a treasure chest released a song bird from its cage reinforcements of scarf, gloves your playground voice catching on the wind Our brains ache merciless iced east winds that knive us Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous What are we doing here? shivering ranks of grey Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence cringe in holes love of God seems dying half-known faces eyes are ice But nothing happens.