Perihelion: An Online Journal of Poetry and Mayhem
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Jordie Albiston

maelstrom #104

o what a night as long as your arm or a decade of
civil unrest    & o what a plate of planets & stars
pressing down softly upon my soft breast    I have
nothing left to pay for this    my purse & soul are

spent    the bank has placed caveats on all that I
am & mortgaged off my head    I search my self
for a coin or two    to toss into the nacreous sky
but I'm skint I'm broke I've blown the whole pelf

& the fortune I was born with is pilfer-purloined
the fortune she was born with is gone    o who can
advance me the necessary breath    who will loan
me a life    for mine has been coerced by underline                        

overdraft    (& upstairs a man treads loudly the
moon    throws small change back down to earth)