Wild Court

An international poetry journal based in the English Department of King’s College London

Kindness I Suppose – Will Burns

Kindness I Suppose


These were the days pitched
from morning straight
into night, the days
of vodka 7s in the shower,
of you bringing the first
good guitar any of us owned

over and playing all day long—
those broken songs it was,
and lives too hard
for us to have fully understood.
A shatter of electricity,
steel strung, sung in high
harmony and real time.

What memory lost to the shock
of us growing old?
What wood for the alive
and what stone,
likewise, for the dead?

Two of the places I mean
have now burned down
and into a kind of ruined
line. He played his last show
to a half-empty Borderline,
out of kindness I suppose.