From the rock bottom of reality
illusion materializes in pairs of black shoes
textured like the armor of tiger shrimps.
The zebra grain lines the surfaces of
towering mountains encircling my thoughts
with the tip of shoes forming a jagged skyline.
It is sharply defined against a cerulean ether
bright as the ultra marine of the Union Jack.
The sloping peaks’ satin surfaces,
upon successive attempts to escalate,
start crackling and peeling off like the scales
of an antediluvian prawn sandwich.
The faster I strive to climb, the quicker
the carapaces disintegrate under my clawing.
Swiftly and suddenly, the flanks of the cliffs
consistent as Sahara sands locked in
cosmic silica, begin collapsing under
my flailing limbs. Illusion becomes
insurmountable and as cold reality sets in,
it coagulates my imagination into fragmented
bytes and bits of British logic.
Alex Nodopaka January©2012