Roddy Williams



you have to eat
she cries if i do not eat
so i eat the breakfast
i eat the clouds, i eat my words
letter by letter
scooped with gravy onto a knife.
i eat a sandwich she’s prepared
and the plate.
i eat some lunch.

in the evening
we eat a chicken together
and i eat the local paper and the stars
slowly chomp the stories about
a newsagent and a sex scandal.
i eat an ice cream
and i eat through time
chewing it like an awkward baguette.
some supper appears
during ‘the apprentice’.

then i eat the night with chopsticks
but there is so much of it i swap them for
a spoon.
too full to sleep i lie awake
and eat the tears
one by one
as they crawl under the door.



Originally from North Wales, Roddy Williams lives and works in London. His poetry has recently appeared in The North, Magma, The Frogmore Papers, South Poetry and other magazines. He is a keen surrealist photographer and painter.

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