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kings heath

Al Anderson

we find a crown in some bins behind the pharmacy
it glimmers green & makes promises

I put it on & say
give me a crown & I’ll be the king of anything
whatever you like let it be that I’ll be its king
I wrap tarpaulin robes around my body
make myself up with lipsticks & spray paints
    mince down the sleepy high street
    singing rare b sides from the 50s

wake up on a tiled floor
a regal bruise stretching across the
side of my face

outside there is the smell of rain
I find the crown shattered in a car park
            manage to save a single glass jewel
            which I keep in my pocket


sometimes I feel
if it’s still there
& whisper

anything, anything


Al Anderson was published in the 2016 UEA Creative Writing MA Anthology: Poetry

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