Journeys I
Clunk, but no click
in 1976
seat as wide as a double bed
smuggled toys hiding
in the foot-well
waves through the window
and I
a small thing
carried along endless roads
twisting and winding
through the mountains of rock
winter snows beginning
to take hold
the moon follows
like an abandoned pet
flat-lining
roads long and straight
an eternity of wheat fields
wanting to pee
wanting to go home
and then ice cracking
smashing seas with iron bow
rocking and rolling
across the ocean
to white cliffs of chalk
topped in green baize
orange ribbons of sulphur lights
burning into the night sky
obscuring the stars
still wanting to pee
still wanting to go home
but home is where the heart lies
Fraud
You are a fraud
pertaining to be
a solid object.
‘I am,’ you said,
‘That is enough.
To be.’
But you are just
as much an empty space
as me.
************************************************
on being
i can hear them constantly asking me
for forgiveness
asking for the earth
as though i have something to do with it
my voice is silent;
angrily assertive
my migraine worsens,
constant prayers.
i told al about it
he said i should listen
to his lot
wailing at all hours-
silence is my truth
i am nothing;
a product of mind,
an eddy in the void
(i go largely unheard)
hui neng reminded me
of the mountain that is
then isn’t
then simply is
of the mirror nowhere
shining bright
i took it to mean
don’t get involved
he laughed
a figment of the imagination
like my migraine