#693 - from a series of pictures that are not

 

25.xi.21

693

2.329

the ephemera

 

for a series of pictures that never were

or could be

and that now are certainly gone

 

 

first day the paper rolls away

a voice from the page

falls back

 

where lightning struck

earth opened up

 

someone has swallowed a secret

hearts tumbles here

a line tricked from day

 

sometimes symphonic

as oceans are

 

go loosely

pants half down, traipse

 

someone must have broken a rule

imagine large object here

 

rough shod

mud through

after swept out

(Augean toil)

 

and tiptoe

rag and bone

to plant the ladder

like a flag – salute

 

somebody falls back in

 

all are accidents of light

 

wake up in here

with the walls all gone

led somewhere off

cloth of this glow to cover

 

face of a clock

and pointing, arms inch

pay no attention to that man

 

this wilderness where we never were

colour of beginning again

 

a stumble where too much edge

 

I lost my name in this

 

picture has no offspring either

all the lost home here

tribes of smoke and bone

 

and so escape white gravity

in favour of the dark