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Untitled Elegy for Fading Suburbia
terrier barks;
relentless itch.
child screams
at fever pitch
and no-one hears his cry.
nothing happens;
dull sky grey
is camouflage
for ageing slate.
still no-one hears his cry.
cigarettes
in the pavement cracks.
pregnancy tests,
heart attacks.
and no-one hears his cry.
and no-one believes my sigh.
and no-one questions why
or what
or who
or how to change this.
the baby is still crying…
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