Cavity Wall Insulation

Foam,
bricked in,
night shaded.
Fumes

drifting
through cracks,
a silent
strychnine
gas,
tightening
the lungs,

blocking
air
like a child lock
blocks
escape
from
the back seat,

waiting
for sleep's
appearance
before launching
the final
breathless
attack.

image: poem

86-87

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