it arrives unannounced
lamp flicker

the image on the TV sucked
to a shrinking dot
we sit in semi darkness
amongst the dead appliances
curtains drawn

I study the curvature
the small ridge rises then falls
your sleep—
magnificent in candlelight

“we should travel” I say
fingering the globe-cum-drinks cabinet

the high pitch whine of the TV
inserting itself back into the room

soft comfort of light
scent of a smoking wick
& clink of ice

the globe still spinning




Michael Ashley lives in West Yorkshire, & in between dodging the turds that life throws at him, and walking his dogs, he writes a little poetry. His work has been published in Carnival Lit Mag, Gutter Eloquence, HorrorSleazeTrash, Zygote in my Coffee, Rusty Truck, Boyslut, Black Listed Mag, and many more.

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