Poem: ‘The Noise’
Raymond Antrobus, 1 August 2024
died so I looked onlineand couldn’t believe the price
for a new noise, so I boughta second-hand noise, deliverable
and like-new. The noise arrivedon my windowsill
the next day in a box wrappedwith too much tape. I tore
each layer of the sticky plasticlike unwrapping a bandage.
The noise was delicateas a small glass
of steam and ash.The thing I liked most about
the second-hand noisewas how much...