#688 - and how

 

20.xi.21

688

2.324

and how

the home riff

 

with catastrofacts

 

days and someone’s clipped wings

 

how easy it is not to be

think nothing of it

 

reach a certain age

it doesn’t matter what you look like, think

you’re quite the midden now

and go on

 

how easy though, not to be

(kind of Keats-ian ease implied)

 

stop a clock

to save time

or let it run down

seep out, slip away

 

easy as …

once you’re there though

pointless to say so

 

the clock’s on a roll

you feel the calendrical momentum

 

as planets must meet the hours appoint

all till the end of

 

just as the weather comes

whistle to wet

 

they have come for a cadence of mine

 

it doesn’t matter

how here

how come

 

this ‘I’ a pile for habits

amoebic spread of self

 

are more concerned with the ancestors now

and some have been happy to bury

 

poke through the shell

peel skin

 

kept on to the centre of the world

which is just wherever it happens we are

 

having gone just where words went

told out of the bones to be