Poet Hera Lindsay Bird reads ‘Ways of Making Love’ from her poetry collection



ways of making love like a metal detector detecting another metal detector like two lonely scholars in the dark cliffs of the Cyrillic alphabets like an ancient star slowly getting sucked into a black hole so hard we break sports leaving the conveners of the Olympics for the generous redundancy package you are a denim tree and I am the world's fastest autumn I am the Atlantic fortress in your general Sherman take me from behind you stride into council chambers waving a petition to orgasm a lip of clouds brushes the roof of the ban the pale tree is curved around the eye and back into the brain it's like watching porn through a kaleidoscope or a slow wind in a kite Factory like dogs trying to do at people style but failing due to the inflexibility of the anatomical structures a cloud of bets float slowly up into your brain rafters you roll down my stockings like the Sun pin an ocean from a Soviet globe I want you in a 17th century feels telling the earth like flesh tractors in the red shade of a mammoth and the Natural History Museum in the inner lock of a Space Station my heart shaking like an epileptic star between the plastic sheets of a lobotomy table because writing poetry about fucking when you could be fucking is the last refuge of the stupid it's like getting three wishes and wishing for Less wishes it's like designing a flag the exact same colour as a sky it's like crying over spilled milk before it's out of a cow it's like breaking into a field at dawn and euthanizing the cow so you can get your crying over and done with and immediately began adjusting to your new Lecter Esprit existence but love isn't really like killing kettle no matter what poetry wants us to believe the day is a vulture The Sun has cracked money flying everywhere like really expensive leaves and here I am begging you to come back as if you were already gone

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