On the forecourts of French libraries
From Reignac to Marseilles
The rain rattles small cars
Clouds drape over backseats
I am a photograph in your satchel
Between a paperback and cigarettes
I am the dead bird on the gravel
Neck snapped from last night's Northwesterly
But no peace, no closure
But no peace, no closure
Beside these roads that halt like jetties
Beneath circling murders are leafless trees
Drowning at the knees
Some burnt to the fingertips
And here my tracks sink, end
Return as I walked in and out of you
And here my tracks sink, end
Return as I walked in and out of you
But no peace, no closure
But no peace, no closure
Driving back through the town
The road map pinned by
Pharmacy signs winking up-road
The cars slice the afternoon with a guillotine
Slush as it bleeds into a night
Peppered by stars and planes to Japan
And the changing of gears jilts
The cats from the walls
The truth lives with you
The truth lives with you
But no peace, no closure
But no peace, no closure
But no peace, no closure
But no peace, no closure