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Cluster index: Iain Britton

The Green Coliseum.

Iain Britton: ‘through childhood – adolescence – old age
i fully imagine – we open ourselves
like windows’

Hung particles.

Iain Britton: ‘night illuminates a fresh complexion. water spouts up & pierces the sky
skittling groups of stars. a thermal mist dissolves. people stare at geysers
fuming from rocks.’

Vignettes (V)

Iain Britton: ‘Like a juggler | he tosses cloud formations
amongst shifting updraughts | he catches | tosses |
calls them by name | the woman beside him’

Eight poems.

Iain Britton: ‘sunlight squints at distortions
trapped in tinted glass /
a ceremony breaks black bread
the wind creaks the floorboards /’