Surveillance
My uncle says that
special branch are
listening to
his calls
he said that birds
aren’t real and
gulls are all
a type of drone
I laughed
the first time he said
his neighbour tunnelled
in his walls
He’s digging up
the garden now
to find the agents
tracking him sure
they’ve set up some
subterranean station
to monitor important
communications
His nails are chipped
and some are broken
bloody fingertips and
swollen purple knuckles
Still digging and
still digging and
still digging in the rain
and deepening mud
searching for
something other than
sitting in his room
alone and unable to
be anything he imagined.
He doesn’t believe
in god, why would he?
When he doesn’t believe
in good or the
value of his breath.
Getting nothing
out of living
but still terrified
of death
My uncle thinks
that special branch
are listening to his calls




Gorgeous
this is perfect