Monthly Archives: March 2016

Grey Ash

Through a gap
In her clamped lips,
She sings out of tune.
Her hand-rolled cigarette
Spills grey ash
Onto her white t-shirt.
She doesn’t care.
She’s concentrating
On playing the piano



Forgive my sins against myself;
All the words
And the white noise.
For they might be the size of needles,
But make enough holes
And my blood leaks out.