Hot Tin Roof

By Samm Sutton

Not the sound of sex on a mattress

or gagged conversations

about lefty policy

or the sound of my own head twisting

spinning

breaking

fractured

truth

naked in my bed

and through my window

floats the cosmic sound

of my neighbours booting amphetamines

but I just want to fall asleep

to the sound of rain

on a hot tin roof .

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