"All Times by Self" by Lawrence Moore

Still stung, still staggering streets at night,

sometimes with feet, most times with mind,

where smoke from chimneys twists and turns,

throws silhouettes of lips unlearned

and someone from the ether smiles

till somewhere more important burns.

I wander squares and lanes and groves

past modest mice, conceited crows;

primeval ploys, pursuits of friends

who weave me down the deepest ends

to wither, shadow, curse, decry,

apologize (would make amends).

A further figure shimmers, waves,

predestinies of primrose glades

mistakable for few things else,

though either by deceit or stealth,

I'm left to stagger streets at night,

sometimes with feet, all times by self.

Lawrence Moore writes from a loft study overlooking the coastal city of Portsmouth where he lives with his husband Matt and nine mostly well behaved cats. He has poetry published at, among others, Sarasvati, Fevers of the Mind, Fahmidan Journal and The Madrigal. His debut chapbook, Aerial Sweetshop, was released by Alien Buddha Press in January 2022. His Twitter handle is @LawrenceMooreUK