Opera
Poetry / Stuart Cooke

Opera

After each voyage has crumbled into ephemera                                                                                                            I return to the house and its quay; I circle the edge before skittling                                                                                                      off to the suburbs. Come to me, I cry, crass plastic and screaming sail,                                                                                                                  shining, golden city slumped and seeping tune! This evening                                                                                            my heart’s emptier than a harbour. I gulp down … Continue reading