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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
 

Lens


Human, a tiny country
slung from a pole of grass.
Its skin of water
nests and suspends the sun.

Now a group happens
more and more:
exchanging names, admitting
it has no arms:

but a catch: cannibalism.
‘Drop in, cool
single,’ urges the ditch.
‘Fall. Fall. Fall.’