Thursday, 13 September 2012

There are times

There are times when a spotlight blows

like a heart night out

streaming open

and I wonder

'what would tomorrow be like if I were in….?

Patti, you name the place?

Russia.

Closer on the office wall map

than the United States.

A news story

a reality

as I write what I think

and publish

and note that someone

in Russia is reading

my working organs

dressed and shaded

dreams

undressed and re-written

opinions of………

it's not very clear.

But just to fill the silence

what do you have for dinner?

Yes Patti, I like fish too

and the sea

and I would love to listen

and talk to you

for longer than a show

about northern hills

planted with graves,

living and

lovers who are dead.

One of your broken strings

connect me, please.

The girl upstairs

has just come home.

Talking on her phone,

'yes Dad, sunny but a little windy'.

She's out on the roof garden,

a red admiral flying between us.

In a country I could travel to by train

there are two girls in prison

her age, young voice,

dyed hair and tattoos.


 


 

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