It is November 1st in New Cross and
By: Rachel Cleverly
About The Poem
This poem is about the anxiety that arises when you have a whole day ahead of you with no plans, and the way that anxiety can shifts to bigger and bigger things until the original thought is lost.
he is awake. I, half-hungover, hear him say
What do people do on a Sunday?
while scratching fake blood threads
stuck to the knit of his chin
And I remembered when my dog died
my parents called I left the house
walked wet circles through town
on my last loop realised
boys looked better
when they were the heat by my feet
and I wanted to keep wandering
but I didn’t have a job
and the library was shut
and I had already finished
four rounds of the park on my own.
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