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This poem is taken from PN Review 259, Volume 47 Number 5, May - June 2021.

Six Poems James Womack

I write you a letter

over the long course of an afternoon
with the eggshell sky losing its colour
turning from blue to grey-black
all the light leaching from the world
until the world is black
and the letter is full of light

Romance of Conception

Strafed out of that ridiculous drainpipe,
a whole platoon of us, to cover the plain,
(an army with sodding banners),
a foreign landscape we were forced to reconnoitre.

Basecamp stories about lost friends:
those who were swallowed by acid,
lost in the sewers, who died of exposure,

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