On neighbours as other animals
︎︎︎ Ian Flatman
︎ Sept 8, 2025
I had to borrow a neighbour's voice for this; a promise
out the window of a car, clearing the city coast-wards
via the nearest, fastest road; summer tar heat & exhaust
stories of another time along here; a cough; pollen
filled tear ducts, scratching half swallowed words; how
summer holds cut grass; the essence of things after a fire
burning clear the land; the cities and lines of smoke rising
into any distance; a dot, a promise of a bird far above.
out the window of a car, clearing the city coast-wards
via the nearest, fastest road; summer tar heat & exhaust
stories of another time along here; a cough; pollen
filled tear ducts, scratching half swallowed words; how
summer holds cut grass; the essence of things after a fire
burning clear the land; the cities and lines of smoke rising
into any distance; a dot, a promise of a bird far above.
Ian Flatman writes poems because there are poems to be written.