26 November 2015


Isn’t always this way, and th’ doldrum’s dust must  
settle gently from moments of intense clarity - it’s 
only then you realise unsettled air drifts are misty 
moments after the singularity booms; standing in 
the shade becomes mandatory, if you’d survived, 
but the next’s enshrined in its own unique vessel 
looking nothing like your imagination has already 
failed to suggest it would - hardly a relief in that - 

Yet we dream of how it will be - & that moment’s 
wound plasticised bright around the core of your 
being in legacies of failed introspection - if you’d 
unwound yourself to see; & we’re blown away in 
an auspicious nanosecond every time that show 
comes to town - without an implied warning 

© 10 June 2015, I. D. Carswell