may all the sunshine in the world
ring out today,
and beat down on heated street,
bringing birds out of dawn nesting,
and pale legs out of hiding:
beat your wretched wasted light
down on all this, dear sun,
for your rays shall not reach me.
king's cross - 11 june
the sky is ochre;
fat with the weight of rain,
satiated by the sunset,
and struggling to stay afloat.