13 December 2010



Couldn't guess where passivity went
in that last gasp – there's no evidence
it meant anything anyway, like a case
of a spare idea left alone too long in
a desert of desiccated thinking

It's there on sufferance I think, an
estranged effigy out of time and place
with contemporaneity; if I blink it will
dissipate surely – let us see if it
disappears along with me

But in a heartbeat you made the World
stop not once but a dozen times –
subdued vocalisations of bewilderment
fluttered cries expressing ecstasy too
concretely conniving to conceal

I am lost in a predicament of whether
volition has a place that is real or did
we merely unleash ourselves to each
other in a wild spring of fresh water
munificence – and drowned together
© 20 July 2010, I. D. Carswell