Furniture tense

P1030387One wing strut is broken
A mend that never quite fitted
After my arms chandelled a
Wee lad’s instant chair-o-plane.

I sit between, left hand spiking
A broadsheet to draw the fire,
Right hand passing codes
To light up other worlds.

Sometimes the old wooden stool
Polices a sideways perimeter
Against dog settee sneak attacks,
When the house and he fall quiet.




About stevedsmart

Steve Smart is a poet and visual artist who also has experience in information design. View all posts by stevedsmart

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