The clouds have swum down from the sky and rolled onto their backs
in the streets, begging for someone to rub their fluffy bellies

A day is as deep as a person and I fit perfectly
I wander in

My eyes flutter about drinking from fountains, puddles and gutters
I stare perfectly round boreholes into the surfaces of hours

Now I’m not there, I’ve just walked away
I’m writing this poem

This is the pretty weed that sprouts
in the gap between two thoughts

That’s right; there’s me and then there’s me
One jug of water poured into two glasses

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James Stradner graduated from Goldsmiths in 2014 with a BA in Fine Art and Art History. He won a commendation in the Bridport Prize, 2015 and his poetry has recently been featured in ANTHOLOGY I and II (2014 and 2015) published by AOTCS Press. In March 2015 he curated ‘small birds nest with blue eggs inside’ at MMX Gallery in London and is an Associate Artist at Firstsite, Colchester for 2015-16.
www.jamesstradner.co.uk