Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington
Neither of Us Are Morning Persons
half six stampedes into our room
where we stretch across the kingsize,
urban sprawl nibbling at the greenbelt.
your fingers leave my hand
like popped bubblegum pulled from a chin.
I watch the gap between garter and stocking
bound anchorlike to your skin
and only want to snuggle in
and stay there until death dissolves me
is it the insignificance of me
compared to the size of the universe
that makes me feel so alone,
or the insignificance of me
compared to the size of this now-empty bed.
Joseph Eastell is a poet from Keighley, West Yorkshire. His poems have appeared in 3am Magazine; Streetcake; Ink Sweat & Tears; Morphrog; The Bohemyth; New Linear Perspectives; Poetry Pulpit & Bare Hands; Burning Eye’s Book Of Alternative Young Poets: Rhyming Thunder; Regardless of Authority; Fur Lined Ghettos. His collection Blossom Boy Beta Test received an Eric Gregory Award in 2018
Porridge 