Beneath and beyond any advertisement
The active ache of nostalgia
Slight toothache
OK, marketed, stuff of adverts
But what was lost haunts, hurts
And what wasn't in fact, more
What we never even got, stuff
Got rid of years ago, can't ever
Be got right
Old screen memories, torn adverts seen
In old buses, escaping through obsolescence
Commodity's servitude
For the pure poetry of real stuff
But not anything but: Water Water
Quality of voice
Quality of loss
There are other limits
Other pleasures
Dream on them
And desire
Anything not present