54 degrees, 29 minutes north (stockton-on-tees)

in an age ov double glazing defenestration becomes twice as hard / & yu ma love had twice as far to fall as most / i recall while speeding the A66 which is no route 66 but a more concrete affair / fast-tracking east / blurring fields ov rape which werent there then tho their yellow subtext was / way back when i fell for yu / yr hi-heel beat & in that stiletto moment ov waiting on yu choosing sci-fi silver saw how well yu hid yr trans pennine difference & just how subtle yr makeup was / no red crimes pinned to us as i palmed painted dreams small as detonators across to yu / security never working out where it went nor the wolfwhistling lads / & after / retiring to that caff off the main drag where they remembered yr make-up / asked who the lucky man was & refused payment for our chinese tea / smoky as stolen pearl i painted on nails which yu dug in ma flesh as i pulled yu ever tighter onto us / mashing lips like overripe cherries / brushing cerise tart from yr mouth / yu whispering how yu never would never could make it as a man / then racking up more ov their infamous patisserie stuffed with all manner ov mango strawberry peach / before dancing out & laying white-crumbs for birds across tombstones / i wiped a deeper red off yr mouth / wishing to pour the breath back in / even now tasting yr sweetness / the snake upon ma lips

54 degrees 33 minutes north (south bank. tees port)

teesside hallucinating in the brilliancy ov chemical flare, i’ve reached southside the tees, described route & pace & place i’ve always known. NORTH, despite it all. yu know how it is, try speaking into the rage, open gob to say more but north-wind whips ma words away

half a word, half a world away: storm brewing over sebald-zee, storm over jansson island, over hoban cliffs, over atwood lakes, above kees water, thru leonards-town, storms building at zimmerman - nebraska & solokov-on-don, storms a-brewing over mari boines arctic-circle, over namchylak mountains, thru ibsen forest, above wollstonecraft falls. somewhere in the mix: a house ov books & a child growing. northerlies coming on strong

this butterfly unfurls down bridge ov ma tongue, looks to the north sea. wings iridescent, impending, improbable, all-colours the steel ov north, all colours ov coal, the burn ov north. frail flame in ma mouth-circle, this creature bearing on its wings a wildly swinging compass point, no, a figure ov 8, no, a circle, aye ... an O: brilliant as petrol - this circle: NORTH