the backroom was empty when they first moved in,

but never since.

for at least five years it was full of shit,

overflown from the attic.

at some point in the last two, three years

a second-hand double bed moved in.

then a desk and some draws.

the backroom was bland, like a 1970’s living-room

made love to a prison cell:

birthed a little box with dirtied magnolia walls

and a salmon pink carpet.

the bedding was psychiatry blue

and the windowsill was a shelf.

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • LinkedIn

A note for those wonderful mobile users out there:

Due to the nature of some of my work, there are often formatting issues with spacing.

Unfortunately, due to tech limitations, this is something I am unable to fix.

For the full experimental spacing experiences, why not check out the desktop version of the site?

Alternatively you can check out my Twitter for exclusive, small mobile-friendly poems.

Thanks for understanding,


©2019 Danny Adams