#1144 - the trophy room in the sky

 

1144

18.ii.23

4.49

the trophy room in the sky

for ghost writing

 

where I have put this afternoon’s wallaby

the flowers fresh picked

the leaf in its veins

 

cloud strewn too

backlit pixelling

the sky in the palm of your hand

 

everyone could be a god there

                  some colour left

 

some think of me as a message

 

I show myself at work

the puppy and the special meal

 

who’s not had some bird speak with them?

I have a bit of that hopelessness too

 

and shit – let’s say – that having happened

 

it’s shown the world how I should be

 

shining

and lauded

and loved

 

I put my cheese up …

moved!

 

still we are saving the old pianos

there’s a swim in the last sun there

 

like everything that bites, that stings

you’ll only see it after