The Second Coup.

by Christopher Barnes

Three shivered in grave clothes.
We were bent
Upon the noiseless foot of time,
Whispers under a kitchen table-cloth, repulsed
By a snigger sounding crystal, hail.

An act-a-part day’s meddling.
Money-s worth –
It’s unseasonable.
The moods in us snagged
In this racket-plague hospitality.  Stark,

Vaporous sunset behind curtains.

Christopher Barnes’ first collection LOVEBITES is published by Chanticleer.  He is a participant writer for and reads at Poetry Scotalnd’s Callendar Poetry Weekends.  He has also written art criticism for Peal and Combustus magazines.


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