Aimless we walk the clown candy neon bars
drenched by rain and bourbon,
through deathly pastures
where gulls form choirs of ragged poets
in the throat of night.
A raven audience
of spit and blades!
Strike my apparent iron ballad,
step gently into a valentine dance...
@ Steven francis poems 2011
Slip the noose of dying and madness for a time and share some observations with Welsh poet Steven Francis in this, his 5th collection of poetry.
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