Words that I saw written on an actual door.

The man made of clay,
and an armature skeleton,

whose arm fell off,

and a ramshackle of drunk
Laurel n’ Hardys
on the floor.

They say he’s Irish,
talks about Ireland.
Either Ireland or “an island” –

drinks like an unfamiliar dog.

A well-thumbed Bible,
thrown against the wall,

frantic and important,
the most often stolen book.

Said Matthew,
“why you keep dragging me out
on walks?
My life like a pancake…”

Sad Matthew,
“I don’t care

how many
flowers, birds and animals,
which road sign brings good luck.”

The dragonflies
he imagined
gave his dislodged hand
a clover.


Traditional Ballad – Dying Slowly by Tindersticks, from the album “Can Our Love…” (2001, Beggars Banquet.) Video – Cosgrove Hall Animation Studios