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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
 

Apology


I’ve learnt to spark and kindle even that last, damp match.
It’s about ownership, you see; not becoming. The hoarder
must return to his stash again and likewise all these holes
in plaster are a coming-home you’ll never understand
and shouldn’t have to. You could map my life in sundry items,
glimpses, memories left around the house; matchbooks
from the bars of four-star hotels in the Strand I shared a gin in;
packs of Durex stockpiled optimistically in the bedside cabinet.

You are one more metaphor away, keep distance like a crab.
Military manoeuvres. Nursing mushrooms after dark.
You will find the typescript of my memoirs, one year later,
stuffed behind the sofa we first and last made love on.