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Likestarlings is a place for talking in poems. We pair poets with poets and they write a sequence of six new works by responding in turn to one another. Our palaver blog goes beyond poetry to discuss collaboration in theory and in practice. Please take a look, and feel free to add comments, opinions and suggestions here. Read poems here
 

The sun does not set


This next one modeled London;
          citizens assembled in
          the House of A———e.

The Londoners knew about simulations,
          and that, outside "the city", 
          citizens get resurrected.

But are they human still? demanded someone
          who looked a bit like Thomas Carlyle,
          and the citizens voted No
          and Yea.

This Carlyle decides to ride a white horse
          to the end of the city.

A woman on a bicycle, going the other way,
          tells him he's handsome,
          and he thanks her earnestly.

At the end, he can't open his eyes.

Why not?

One of your eyes is a one and one is a zero, says a citizen
          on a motionless black horse.

There is, in the city, a scarcity of bread.

This citizen is a liar; he has been here
          since the tower clock reset.