polaroid ramp
the moon caramel trimming of star
the slumbering southern wind outside
little shallow shadow in your bottle of wine
the infuriated traffic at a standstill
the remorse half prayer half joke
civilisation purrs beyond here
its streets come alive with cafe and waiter
we meet others in the the limelight
eating the same dinner over and over
the water the gulls the fountains the silverware
the smoke drifts in cold coils illuminated within
emergent favour and some expediency
black syrup in a white cup
honey comb dew on butterscotch iced
we pay the bill with our kindness card
in an apartment off deluxe crescent
where the furniture strains towards you
where the chairs bear their burden with a sigh
where the bed head bells out towards light
the doors are closing
the fight for meaning has been lost
if you can get through the night
into rooms full of fragile technique
the mechanised nature of the watering systems
the oak implied by the seed is rushing to the sun
the fire may be lit but the flames produce no heat
the open and closed sky crouching above
when the rain come and hit the rose
crystal stab of crimson flower
when the deluge begins presently
i will hide in your arms in the darkness herein
in the prevalent nearness our bodies will take
in the closeness of storm in the comfort of bed
in the seventeen mornings that come when they may
the mystical numbers that turn up on the wheel
the gears compelling us up hills of illusional life
stand at the brink of the other worlds
where the brave go one way
the wicked go the other
