AS IF HE LIVED ALL LIVES

lines of light awake

each page a mourning 

muscle bends

in dust a flare 

tributary  synapse sparks 

inch forward blossom 

 of  a winter London

 worn inside a burrow

collapsing with every visit

   of nervous chemical corona

angle poised

to come in

And ah, 

so much to each intake 

breathe above fuming vats

our daily intolerance in

following footprints 

 worn over 

             slipping on quick lime 

pulsing at a pace 

guide of the Ganges river

smoothed over acid green 

look down see the estuaries 

                     or look back at the dead

                       to draw out

the living light

  that comes crawling to meet us.

 GREASE PAINT ON THE HORIZON

 

Peel back facts ripple cantina oblige the appropriate 

tea stained come flower, just by blanched indifference escort infusions

past the nettle bridge.

Take off glowing glee banana’s bending time advice 

blurring photo-copied peach credit extensions

from the floor above a hopping with gratitude. 

Work it over slime so now it flickers ragged flesh

glow in the dark fish gore

tufts of swan down duck feathers old tea cups

that old guy with bin full of stale bread

don’t feed the birds

they will explode

oil the cabin let it breathe belief 

cedar alpine squall

laughter by the window 

outside Mock Tudor folly

continuous moat action

lichen body torsion inlet  

we greet each other over many years of silent interaction. 

You: hidden in mist 

and I: misplaced a decade somewhere.  

We sight land we depart once more into the tunnels, Northern, Victoria and so on, emigres of the adult education scene, the late night after work college scene hiding in libraries trying to quietly eat crisps scene  the phone’s wild glow

the wind rattling the vents the flickering at the end of  philosophy.