To rescue Kahlo from the clutches of the corporate art market, we need to acknowledge the overt and covert political dimensions of the work, demands GAVIN O’TOOLE
The Planet Is Dying
by Jemima Foxtrot
I can feel the weight of the clouds pushing down on me.
The planet is dying and with it
the foxes fucking in the care park of our block of flats.
It’s taking the cheeseburgers with it and children,
necklaces and best friends.
The planet is dying
and I can feel the weight of the clouds pushing down on me.
I’ll never see the crest of a wave again.
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