3 Poems by Cooper Kalamat
As it Lays
quiet morning light
falls on old retail signage
quietly fading
In the Park
on a bench
an old man lies
hand acradle
but nothing inside
Nightjack
The hollow car park scrapes underfoot
its darkness reflected in each puddle
I rush through
but stop
briefly
for one sound that tells me its story
eight hours done –
I barely utter ten words
to anyone
and the stale taste of morning comes
with a cold listless light.
the front doors yawn wide and
a breath from outside lifts an
ethanolic blossom through –
the sickening perfume of the
desperate rising birds.
Cooper Kalamat writes about to the underside of contemporary millennial life. He currently lives in his hometown of Bournemouth in the UK.