Trust bats; they mimic parents.
She appeared in words
Putting labels on local ideas
while circus babies suffer.
When heated, dogs ricochet
to 2010; they smell oestrogen.
They live; Family suffered,
Breathe milk, smell children. Binge.
Britain’s landslide. She arrived,
excessively, collapsing in childbirth.
On record a female can breathe.
Wednesday; London’s reeling.
Clear plastic, afternoon stars,
Baby juice, alcohol in a bottle.
Bats glimpse empty couples
Postscript: the media won.
A Graveyard for Heroes by Michael Michel (reviewed by Adam Weller)
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*Official Author Website**Read **Fantasy Book Critic’s review*
* of The Price Of Power**Read Fantasy Book Critic interview with Michael
Michel*
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3 days ago
I like the juxtaposition of images, looks like a kind of cut-up style. Neat poem.
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