Costa
Alfreda Benge, Robert Wyatt
Orange
The fierce orange of the egg-shaped fireball
Plopping into the ocean
As the earth tips backwards towards night
Orange
The scratched orange of the gas bottles
Delivered for lack of pipeline
Dragged to the door by the man in a wig
Orange
The soft orange of two full moons –
One high, one low in a puddle mirror
Floating in a pothole of the unmade road