Josie

2020 wasn't finished with me, not after that screening, my partner Sandra Gee, the photographer of happiness, has ashamed cancerous dreams, now she's for a festival, what should have been, dazzling different by the sea, has to fit my radiography, howling at her requests, raging in midstream, I shout about my breasts, poets don't die unseen, swept away like leaves, sometimes they have to heave, she still continues to jest, knowing how i feel, silliness is her only quest, to rip apart the seams.