Tonight Second position
By alphadog1
- 1727 reads
Tonight
As an aged eye, the skin upon the old river Exe ripples;
In shade it reveals nature’s flotsam from the damp banks,
That is so noted of, in hushed currents: quaking epistles.
In her slow rising skirt: divided by mass and by light,
how greedily the water slurps in soft slups below;
revealing more than the river musk in a glazed peep sight.
Upon the membrane then: wrinkles in soft silk above,
Broken by refraction and Juxtaposed in metempsychosis:
Time calls, with the parched echo of a soft calling dove.
The skin holds up the bold old long legged boatmen;
Whose pulses, just thrust in such sharp shudder time;
gathering the invisible food brought on by the jetsam.
Here a dog’s sour sweaty tang lifts the rocks and slowly sifts
As he laces his snuffle along the steady arched concourse,
His soft pant hushes the wild eyes that dart about with shift.
Above the Dog is a slow gathering of the distant people:
The lone wrinkled desperate, drinking summer into oblivion;
their eyes: tired scraped dirt dry; avoid the smiles of the gleeful.
In slow steps some duly come: a shuffle -rasp ! A clatter, a rustle:
Hard breathing bicycle wheels sharp clatter a slack clickityclack,
As the staff of life is glugged: gloriously aiding tired aching muscle.
While the Trinity, in beautiful sounding fits of hysterical giggles,
and with abandoned fervour, set alive warm the soft summer cologne
That blazes the eye and block the nose with sweet, snot, seedcakes.
Then onward: higher and faster into the pale blue shard of sky;
Here birds are humming excitedly, they fly, sucking and snapping
at smaller and smaller things that fly wild and free then die.
They are caught upon this other skin in fractals so fine and fair
to then dance in huge arcs that upon this mirror reflects
more than a frozen hint within the now almost rusting air.
To then a rising wild cold hard high with fast flames until:-
There's nothing left in this world of seam and matter;
Just mere rocks that collect iced dry and ashen dust.
Outside is a vacuum: A cacophony of silence
That is benumbing to the ears.
And it’s cold.
so bloody old.
Yet I've never seen the stars shine so very beautiful,
or so very, very bright,
As they do in you: my love.
Tonight. x
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Comments
And this is only the second
And this is only the second position! Not sure what my grand-parents would say, what with all that slurping and thrusting. I liked it though.
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How lovely to see the Exe
How lovely to see the Exe given a Joycean treatment. I like it.
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