By Cai Draper

today I would like to encourage the sky to dance about my head


wind blowing concrete


thick chancer down thoroughfare


then question what drip comprising the firmament


rubs the noise whitely & static blurred in


the first chapter of a book called the Star Maker


took me sixteen years to read


in every sentence bitter tastes


the feasibility of moving worlds


away from the body through space


once I blamed my infidelity on reading too much


sci fi with a straight face


this is the closest the world has ever seemed to closing down yet here we are


dipping our poems in chocolate sauce & sniffing


fingertips like it’s a genuine weekend


& not any new slick grey arrow


hurling itself out our throat towards bedtime

Cai Draper is a poet from South London. His work has been published by Bad Betty Press, Lighthouse journal and Burning House Press, with poems forthcoming in the next issues of Tentacular and Tenebrae. He organises free poetry workshops at the Book Hive. @DraperCai