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sees every Iranian flick,
makes tiny notes in caffs,
likes a full English
but not a fried slice
because fried slice is ‘wrong’,
listens to The Beta Band,
sucks on a pipe full of cotton wool
that I bought him, pissed,
on Seventh Avenue,
dealt with his Mum’s suicide,
gets to the smallest exhibitions,
makes all technology go wrong,
stood by me when I went mad,
understands Hegel
reads a lot of S-F,
lives round the corner,
comes to Lambchop gigs,
eats too quickly,
drinks Maker’s Mark,
might be leaving town.
From Magma no 27 (Autumn 2003)