Solstice 2016: so bite me

for Jo Cox

Each recipe is a bucket list
Beet sequence Fibonacci strawberry
The end not dusty just a bit crumby
Misery more honoured in the fridge
Than here in the end of the world pot pie

“I can not…”

I get the dusk is more than ooh, now
Dawn awaiting first light dreaded, desired
Dark hours decorating regret, my sleep
Or exquisite shadows connections bring
All those parts on the part of other souls

“…can not hold her hand…”

The meaning of a day a bland cry
Lived not watched as the offices run by
Rising for a moment all gonna die
And somnambulant side stroke once again
Take bearings, light out new for the headland

Of crust. You may have burnt it, salted
Turned to mush, let it go cold on deck –
There is always another until not
Nibble around the raw bit and shut up
Remember that cake you dropped and rescued

“It was nice.”

Here at the perfect turn of the year
Turn in enough and knock back shots
Bust the dumb orbit of hate
The night owns enough
Without complaint
Take this bit
Bite it