Friday, 6 May 2016

Another Planet

His sleeping quarters have glass walls, rough timber shelves loaded with blankets. 

Bowl of water before the cracked mirror, head at an angle,
the razor ploughs the snow of shaving foam. 

It is seven a.m. The sky scratched by contrails. 

He writes in his journal:

The discovery of another planet comes as no surprise to me. I know quite a few people who live there…

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