#1102 - in a wordfold

7.i.23

1102

4.7

in a wordfold

for dream diary, ghostwriting

 

where

by hook to catch

 

woke on that other world

no memory of else

 

set out there

by crook

a kind of inching too

 

come by way

of where we are

 

it is the time of many birds

the littlest most

 

booming in the half tank

hidden for all voice

 

these are the nights

of much frog

 

(conceding somewhere to go)

would you admit we’re getting there?

 

a world heals over every world

 

these are those restored in the dream

everything just as it was

 

a ghost is always taken for granted

 

I go with a book

they take it for gospel

it’s the only place you’ll find me

 

writing upright afoot

a bit floaty

 

to prophecy the day that is

time that we live

 

and when I bend for the words to lay them

 

sometimes do you feel it ?

come a little dizzy

that’s the planet on its way

 

 

 

 

preparing our haunts

or

mortality, after the event

 

a smoke to the obvious –

our revelation

 

everything is better buried

you’s think we’d know that by now

 

first

you’ll find my voice in here

lovely in sunshine

 

I mean that you are to find it

 

make your own poem from what’s there

I will make one too

 

under fences

over

I take the wallaby’s way

 

magic is to know

that all of this – that we and it –

everything will be

 

I could say, if you like, that the air is silk

but there is no air

no saying

now we are I am nothing

 

let us then worship the whole of the sky

consisting of all beyond as we do