1/30/2018 0 Comments Poetry by Jack Houston Nevermind is just about the only thing that’ll settle him the opening solo of ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ having his little frame droop in my arms as if inducing an ancestral reflection of the berries piled high the day’s game still warm on the floor of the encampment the us the troop in our assembly at the signal of the evening sun enjoying a sense of togetherness a something we let go of long ago and now only fleetingly recreated at football matches or club nights here in the ennui in between the most heinous of our species' achievements and those that will displace them I’m stood rocking wrap-ped up in my juvenile’s fantasy my partner off out on the hunt my baby now soundo for as long as this nap lasts and I’m staring out of this fifth- floor window at strangers traipsing home to their places not even knowing I’m up here as Kurt sings Oh well, whatever, Bio: Jack Houston used to put on warehouse parties in London, but now works in his local library and writes poems. He took second prize in last year's Poetry London Competition. Recent work online at And Other Poems.
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