The heat has taken our
Breath away, has robbed us
Of free will. Everything must
Tilt towards the coolness
Between our self and this.
But where is it?
She is angry, she is raging
The taste of Nature has curdled
And we were curdling it
Deliberately, like we could
Sell it on to the next generation
Or aliens as some sort of
Local delicacy roasted slowly
Between Venus and Mars
Or somewhere in that primitive
Galaxy, so strong, so stupidly.
These feel like the end days
Of life. The sun, the moon,
The clouds that move, the
Train that stops at every stop
And then goes back again.
The cyclists in the queue
At the traffic lights, leading
South. How long it feels, this
March to death, this mess of
Locks and wheels and limbs
That we call civilisation. How
Vile the stench of sweating
Plastic and half-eaten sandwiches
Discarded in the wrong section
Of the bin, into general rubbish
I hear Morocco pulsing
In my feet and Hong Kong
Twinkling in my throat
Montserratian and Barbadian lapping
Ears over to New Orleans,
Rolling down to Acapulco
Further down Columbian greens
That heard my father’s
First word to the world
Now I’m flying high above
The deep giant squids and
Corals, fighting and fading into blue
Back to Europe, Corfu
Familiar pieces of the jig saw puzzle
Curling at the edges, many missing
Do of it what can be done
With what is left, before
Some breeze, dog or toddler gusts it apart, unthinking.
Oh I wish they
Wouldn’t sing at
Night, the birds,
When my chest
Is tight and the
Road to Day is
Spiked with dreams
That cannot be
Seen in light of bird
Noise, rogue
Dawn speech strayed
Off the sun.
Please sit quiet
On your branch
And wait, if sleep
Is too heavy for the
Light state of a
January that knows
No snow but isn’t
Spring.
Blossom is already
Breaking the tired grey,
Confused from lack
Of sleep because
Autumn forgot to turn
All the lights off and
Let the heating run all
Night.
Being Every Day 