FRIGHT NIGHT

 

I needed to shock my Self out of anxiety

Running off to plunge into cold water

The first cry of the day from the child two doors down

Is like the dawn of creation

Builders hammer out in chorus 

 Sheets of green parakeets fly off at once 

 Sounds merge like the elements in a Feldman score

Rubbing up against each other in the dark

In a restored church  we sat 

In silence suspended from steel beams

On a Saturday getting dark earlier now 

Intense meditation from acts of small delicacy

Provoking rough storms of thought

Hovering in the architrave 

Thickening grey black clouds over Balfron

We were young we are younger still now

Fuck sex fuck everything that moves.