… and the broken.

I defy you,

Or you …

Any of you who are

Capable, still,  of feeling;

Not robbed of sensitivity

By society’s cavalries …

Daughters of Aurora.

We are the happy sun-born travellers:

Children under star-flicker,

Waiting in the crackle-mystery

Middle night passes

For the tall, glamorous

But eternally lonely

Electron-curtain dancers.

25/4/2013

When It Isn’t Playing.

I suddenly realise that I

Need the lights on, the

Candle’s  insipid, greasy guttering

Is no longer sufficient.

Into the left,

Across to the right:

Who could have guessed it?

The juggler tastes his throwing apple;

Thunderbolt runs down kite-string,

Water no longer fits in the bath-tub,

Frustrated scientist goes gamma-green.

Maybe the best dancers

Don’t need the notes?

it’s about the white matter –

Less is more –

A disembodied voice informs me. –

Does she know I can hear

Music when it isn’t playing?

 

25/3/2013