Published by Out-Spoken Press, Unit 39, Containerville 1 Emma Street London, E2 9FP All rights reserved © Wayne Holloway-Smith this work have been asserted by them in accordance with section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. A CIP record for this title is available from the British Library. of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Out-Spoken Press. First edition published 2020 ISBN: 978-1-8380211-1-5 Typeset in: Adobe Caslon Out-Spoken Press is supported using public funding by the National Lottery through Arts Council England. The rights of Wayne Holloway-Smith to be identified as the author of This book is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to provisions
Contents Love minus love 1 Lasagne 2 An ode then to 3 Yellow Tiled Kitchen 4 grow closer don’t be scared 6 Tube Voice Man 9 When I die 11 The fear will make the meat
1 Love minus love can still be love if you hold it up to the light at the exact right angle – diamonds winking o ff its underside same yellow as the fox dead and mine in the one breath I denied myself staring down its dragged open chest its stomach a smirk dumped in a green recycling bin Clapham Road side I go too far often since I saw you whip your fringe on the dance fl oor I’m fi nding tumours in each place I put my fi nger I’m picking them out my minestrone soup my lentil and tomato stew before I put spoonfuls of it in my body I’m crying at the speed of cars nowadays into every hopeless piece of myself – O Sarah what it takes to stay alive I can’t die well if you’re dancing
2 Lasagne too-sad my ribs gift-wrapped in fatfat – god forgive me man we were so small and reckoned our bodies wrong – too-tight not ours to keep o lordlord – we grew up smoking and checking our waistswaists – your damp palm mine in its place – you didn’t want this lifelife let’s pretend it’s happening anyway – didn’t want this meal let’s make believe: lasagne moving silent peas across a plate chips and cheese – I forgot myself how to eateat and you burnt calories o ff your forkfork and me burning calories o ff my fi ngers – and you set a match to your own arm – fl ame – bellowing up my r e d l u o h s now smoke spilling up over your browbrow – the edges of my frame are scribbled out – we’re taking up so little space turning our t s u d t o h - k n i p h t r a e h t r a e praise be – I can’t remember the girth of our name 
