#729 - three little poems to round out the year

 

31.xii.21

729

2.365

three little poems

none of which really work

 

 

in ours the empty air

 

word no one owns up

 

wrestle antennae

a lit whiff winter was

 

fine photons fell

pasticherie with luck

 

often I feel I could see further

were we to look under all

 

then distance is a kind of glue

as far as wherever we are

 

always a line underneath

 

 

 

 

bung dream

 

never starts off but you’re there

must have got the wrong end of the stick

 

I was in the wrong job

on the wrong day

at the wrong thing, moment

 

late!

wrong school, wrong class

 

got on the wrong train to not get there

it was the wrong station, wrong platform

I was in the wrong carriage

barking up

backed the wrong horse there, went    

 

had to go back because I was wearing thongs

and you can’t

would never have known if I hadn’t looked down

 

say widdershins

say counterclock

you can see how it all goes wrong

 

must have been a year’s wrong end

my wrong way face

misunderstood

 

I could remember coming out

but now I can’t find the key to the building

yours, not mine

first I find the wrong one

that’s convincing

someone lets me in

always kindness

 

but it’s the wrong place

the carpet tells me inside

and where’s the door?

 

that’s where I wake up in a pandemic

sick as a dog we are were will be

 

this has to be the wrong world

a sun is shining now

 

 

 

 

 

the year runs out

 

it’s just the one day

only one more

come on … you can

it’s less than a sleep to go

 

that’s what they’re saying

every clock’s egging

but we can’t go on like this

there’s nothing more in the tank

 

I kept the doors and windows open

that’s how breezed through

could say survived

 

and now the new year

is just footsteps away

and what a location!

 

so suck out the juice

squeeze the last drips

lick

cut the tube

and fingerscoop

make a cleansweep

 

no one would wish such a year on the world

but it looks like we’re most of us up for another

 

now it’s the 9 o’clock fireworks for me

I mean on the telly of course

tuck up and sleep the year out

 

as I live and breathe