How my back felt this morning
Like a newborn foal
trying to get back inside
its mother. All gyroscope.
The tilting sky almost making
me think of flight, any methodology
to offload this gifted payload.
Thinking of an ex
The blindfolded shark
in the bath keeps making
demands: an ice sculpture
of its likeness, roses made of
starlight, a blessing from a heron,
my voice transplanted
into a plush sloth permanently
set to sleep.
Observation
The bus passenger
eased out a violin
from his mouth
as WhatsApp pinged
another message
informing him of
[insert apocalypse here]
Christian Ward is a UK-based poet with recent work in Southword, Ragaire, Blue Bottle Journal, Streetcake Magazine, The Madrigal, The Galway Review and Roi Faineant. Two collections, Intermission and Zoo, available on Amazon and elsewhere.
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