# 189: vincent van gogh

17 red buses counted on the bridge (waterloo)
3 & a bit bar gates in the margin next
the sketch of quick black bare branches
& scratch-circles of tree leaves —
setting the scene with speed, impersonal —
9 nation’s flags breeze-warbled in colour
in(decipherable) out the globe
with four colours of the eyes
like birthday handkerchiefs
folded to suit the suit, say on such a day
azure     auburn     ochre      pink
only remains to afford the suit
here comes the whole-sum-lump
to spud punch the air — ME:
self-named identity depression
for my next trick will say it
buses sink/grid-locked old party things
run through the view like a blood-cough