1. Jetlagged visitor in London dark awry with first light catastrophic: tender welts and bruises, smears of iodine, bare bones
scraped fleshless, fallen anyhow. What disaster fell and welters out of sight? But day distracts. Cold tube train wheels
squeeze new weight briefings, sparrows scuffle-dream, then parakeets quick-fire their brass cacophony from trees less green.
And pause. Mind taking wandering steps hears Mr Fox tiptoeing close and tells itself his famished yap laments love's labour lost.
I crashed my life here roads ago, but still its fragments—ragged jags and
