12.35 am, walking through Hampton Wick by Christian Ward

The town has been reduced
to a room in my tired state.
The river, a carpet of blue.
Trees shapeshift into a table,
chairs. Night buses, cars
and the handful of people out
are television programmes.
The moon is a man throwing rocks
at my window, unaware the room
has no door.



Christian Ward is a 28 year old London based poet and translator. His work has appeared in Elimae, Diagram, and The Kenyon Review and is forthcoming in Ezra, The Emerson Review and elsewhere.