Matthew Welton

Three Poems


Bradley Ridley falls asleep reading, and wakes with
newsprint on his face. Natalie Chatterley patches the
patches on her denims. Ruth Reith walks backwards
into the untouched snow.

Reason rots like pears, Dustin Mostyn says. A balloon
floats over the cactus patch. The clouds, says Natalie
Chatterley, come like an unbudgeable kind of boredom.

We create a vernacular particular to whatever mustn’t
be unsaid, says Ruth Reith. Dustin Mostyn fabricates a
rubric for the fabrication of rubric.

Bradley Ridley mouths along to the radio adverts. The
blue crows croon their crotchety song. Ruth Reith flips
another coin. Natalie Chatterley cycles out into the
resolute rain.


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