Mr Dust Jacket and the Kettle Collectors

Wind blows the bin lids off
Bio of Houdini by
Mike says pick the car up at
And I say Ok but
Car growls
I clip clop down the street like a marionette
Learning ventriloquism from a book called
Dead Behind the Eyes
But saying goodbye
I look at the baby too long
And well up [Gulp]
One lonely guillemot trying to spell his own name
Beguillemot                            ???
Cover’s come off my copy of
Spy vs spy
Cold war, cold feet, cold soup called
Gazpacho (guillemot) gazpacho
(beguiling) sugar cubes just in case I meet a horse
Unbearable thought                        
He wouldn’t like me
Nb must avoid
Black plastic bin bags melted onto the tarmac
Mycelium chomping through oil spills
Red straw piercing black coca cola
Life gnaws            
At me like a bone
In Yiddish zupnbeyn specifically
Soup bone enter stock character of
Belle Juives (guillemot)
Barbra Streisandy beaches
Ibs and also
Moany Mitchel
Groan Baez
Class starts with a reading from
Wind blows the bin lids off
Slow blind and limbless
Kite snaps in the sky
Man snaps his fingers at a waitress at the same time
I snap a stick and put one half in my mouth and one half in the dog’s
He likes it more
We role reverse baking myself into a cake so
Nobody touches me
Frothing and gnashing and refusing
To acknowledge
What I’m not. In Yiddish: frothing and gnashing and refusing
In German:
Kite snaps in the sky life’s a riot with OK OK
Settle down
Come here to me
You’re ok
You’re alright
You’re ok now. Listen,
The Communist Party are sending me to Chicago
To organise shoe factories
To organise shoe factories
Into left and right into
Left and right –





Dr Dogmeat and the Chappie Cans

it’s just my belly coming back          double eggs and chips
in Wrentham before
Cove Hithe chappie etc
whiskers boneo
boneo where4artthou
and the dog
bites his thumb at you
and laughs
come forward
approach the cashier
bio of houdini. road to
               Eldorado          your
pink peppercorn eyes and ford
engine              come forward
approach the cashier
I have good luck written all over me

round and happy
and clacking into my friends
like a fistful of dice
        big tele night
        small tele but
        big night of it,
lots and lots
of programs on
seamless and behind the scenes
different conflagrations of my cousins
doing hard work
pulling ropes
and clack clacking
    just me and the looneys
tonight (take the bin out)
it’s a hannahrama
dinner for one
a shower
the veins
in my knees
please, please
but lunch out
at Wrentham
all day
all day
all day
all day  



[Hannah Levene is a writer living in Norwich, UK. She has previously been published in Hotel, Spam, -agia and Datableed. Her debut novel Greasepaint is forthcoming from Nightboat Books.]

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