“Autumn Morning” by Pseudo Irvine Welsh – Writing through “Winter Evening” by Georg Trakl

When coke slumps upon the porthole,
High tones – the morning buzzer?
For so many has the counter
Been provided, the line placed in an array.

Of their roaming, several
Proceed on obscure trails to this passage.
The sapling of finesse is blooming in tawny
Out of the fresh vapor of the soil.

In tranquillity, Voyager, encroach:
Trouble has shrunk the vestibule into gravel.
But mind: in sheer radiance, gleaming
There on the counter: dough and claret.


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