• Sam Hacking

Don't let Magpies bury your hair

Shopping centres.

Feet dance

shoes twist, turn, stop, lift.

Gold hoop earrings.

Dogs on tubes are funny.

Milk bottle with a playing card in it.

a Lyles black treacle can, filled with brown sugar in a cafe.

My hair falls everywhere

if Magpies bury it, you die

Milk in tea,

swirling nebula, clouds trapped in dirty puddle.

Big gull on church steeple

Lacing canals and walk ways

bridges arch over, graffitied

Still fox on hill

a red ache in the sun

I'll never know what it was looking at

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