SOCIAL FABRIC
AN EDITED VERSION OF THE WORLD
NO BIRDS IN THE TREES NO PEOPLE
NO WEEPING NO CLAWING BACK YOUR HAIR
NO PLUNGING IN TO BLACK LAKES
NO MAKING A SPORT OF YOURSELF
NO SIGH IN THE NIGHT NO PHOTOGRAPH OF FUN
NO SUNRAY SPLAYING OUT OF YOUR HEAD
NO GRASS BETWEEN YOUR TOES
NO WEEPING NO CLAWING BACK THE TIME
NO GARDEN NO YARD NO PARK NO RESERVE
NO TRAIN NO BUS NO CAR NO TAXI
NO OYSTER NO PEARL NO BUCKET OF SAND
NO HEART AND LUNGS NO BABIES NO BUDDIES
NOBODY ON THE STREETS
NOBODY IN THE HOUSES
NOBODY IN THE FACTORIES
NOBODY IN THE SHOPS
NOBODY IN THE OFFICES
NO WEEPING NO CLAWING BACK THE CASH
NOTHING ON THE TELEVISION
NOBODY PICKING UP THE PHONE
NO FATHER NO SISTER
NO GIRLFRIEND OR BOYFRIEND
NO BROTHER NO MOTHER
NOTHING ON THE TELEVISION
NOBODY PICKING UP THE PHONE
NO TANNING NO MANICURE
NO WAITING NO DREAMING NO BLOOD
NO CARPETS NO RUGS NO BLANKETS OF SKIN
NO MOON NO STARS NO SHINE SHINE
NO MOUNTAINS NO RIBS NO STICKY DARKNESS
NO DAY NO DRIFTING NO WOODLAND FANTASY
NO HERD NO MURDER NO NEST NO EGG
NO RHINO NO RHINESTONE NO COWBOY NO MILKMAID
NO ALPINE AIR NO TOXIC SHOCK NO BURN
NOTHING ON THE TELEVISION
NOBODY PICKING UP THE PHONE
NO CANCER NO TUMOUR
NO SURGEON NO VET
NO LYING NO CRYING
NO DOOR TO THE PAST
NO WHITE LIGHT NO DEADLY VISIONS
NO SCHOOL NO COUNTRY NO LOVING ARM
NO WORM NO BEETLE NO LOSING HAND
NOBODY IN THE BANKS
NOBODY IN THE LIBRARIES
NOBODY ON THE RADIO
NOBODY ON THE ROAD
NOBODY IN THE TOWN SQUARE
NOTHING ON THE TELEVISION
NOBODY PICKING UP THE PHONE
NO CRUSHING NO KISSING
NO ANAL NO FISTING
NO WELTS UPON YOUR BACK
NO WORLD UPON YOUR SHOULDERS
NO GULL SQUALL NO MACHO WALK NO SWAGGER
SAY HELLO TO THE PAST THE FUTURE THE PRESENT DANGER
NOBODY TO HOLD YOU
NOBODY TO SAY GOODBYE
NOBODY BAKING IN THE RED SUN
NOBODY FALLING DOWN THE EARTH’S WIDE CRACKS
NOTHING ON THE TELEVISION
NOBODY PICKING UP THE PHONE
NO SUNBURN NO BLISTER NO HAPPY LIFE
NO CRACKS IN YOUR HEAD NO BUCKET OF BLOOD
NO GURGLING BABY NO SPIDER IN HIS CRIB NO OMEN
NO COUGHING UP YOUR LUNGS NO BODY BESIDE YOU
NO BITTER COFFEE THRILL NO FEARFUL LURCH OF GUTS
NO PILLS NO COKE NO GOBLET OF WINE
NO 2-4-1 NO PLASTIX NO WEEPING ACTORS
NO CALF NO LAMB NO CUB NO SUCKLING BABES
NO BLOWJOB NO SWIMMING POOL NO PULL OF TIDE
NO MEDIC NO PASTOR NO VISIONARY POET
NO POLICE NO POLICE NO POLICE IN THE STREET
NO WEEPING NO CLAWING BACK THE LAND
NO AIR NO BREATH NO LIPS IN THE NIGHT
NO PERFUME NO GEMSTONE NO LOVE LETTER
NO SHIP NO RIG NO LIFEGUARD TO WATCH YOU
NO PLAGUE NO CURE NO FLIES UPON YOUR FACE
NO MAJIK NO RITUAL NO GHOST BESIDE YOUR BED
NO PISS NO SHIT NO MUMMY DOESN’T LOVE YOU
NO HERALD ANGEL NO SAINT NO BODY ON THE PYRE
NO SURF NO MOSS NO LICHEN NO TREE ROOTS TO WRAP AROUND YOUR FEET YOUR THROAT
NO STORM NO NEON BALL OF LIGHT NO ARMS TO SHIELD YOUR EYES FROM THE HORROR OF
THE WORLD AT THE END OF ITSELF WHICH BEARS NO WITNESS
NOTHING ON THE TELEVISION
NOBODY PICKING UP THE PHONE
NOTHING ON THE TELEVISION
NOBODY PICKING UP THE PHONE
NOTHING ON THE TELEVISION
NOBODY PICKING UP THE PHONE
NOTHING ON THE TELEVISION
NOBODY PICKING UP THE PHONE.
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Sophie Robinson was born in 1985. She has a PhD in Poetic Practice from Royal Holloway. Her first collection, a, came out from Les Figues in 2009, and her second collection, The Institute of Our Love in Disrepair, was published by Bad Press in 2012. In 2011, she was the poet in residence at the Victoria and Albert Museum. She lives in Clapton and works as a lecturer in poetry at the University of East Anglia.