alfie lee writing



stars scale back
off deep ocean voyaging
fish seek sardine balls
of gut tightening
feasts unraveling in
long twists quick
of light pulsing with the ebb

in his first real
job he carried anything from
to the icehouse shouldering
perishables produce butter
slabs of beef on weekends at
the ice cream parlour eyed girls stroking
his head nursing
his next move

what does one do
when the door to hunger
opens peer into the
raw catch caught choking hollow
out on your own
saliva taste
nothing only

slur m speech cloud
my judment slide
of this dragnet of slips
so slght
this be tide i f
my head my hrt
wh will


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