crabbing boats
some with pots
some with sails

across the blue mirror
across a blue heaven
across the welded horizon

Suddenly, the 502s were back
those unexpected disconnects
that make posting whack
and my nerves a wreck

Like blank spots in time
that made me backtrack
unable to use rhymes
I felt trapped and  highjacked

Did the server choke on a bone?
Was 5G stalling me, wordless and postponed?
Did the firewall collapse, did DNS lapse?
Was it my laptop, was it my phone?

People watched me, on the metro,
as I frowned and moaned at my useless iPhone.
The issues seemed flagrant, I was becoming impatient
Was I some kind of nut? I was showing emotion.
We don’t DO that in Paris - have public implosions.

Did it happen to you?
Or was I one of a few.
What were the chances
that it only happened to poets in France?
.
.
Song for this:
Alone Again (Naturally) by Gilbert O'Sullivan
La Vie en Rose by Allison Adams Tucker

It means more
Than you give it credit for
It gives you space
You give it space
Which equals time
Standing in place
In all this space

When the detritus
At last
Gets too deep
When there s
No clear vision
Awake
Or in sleep
While
The candles wax
Melts
And bubbles down
The foul grey sands
Whip off of the beach
To  cover the town
The infection
Not stopping
To your system
A rout
Them things  
Held within you
Start to leak out.

It almost happened.
I was almost good enough for him.
He almost took responsibility, our magnet pieces of love almost gathered,
Before the scene got all dim.

I never knew this would be my lesson,
In a closed book, an endless waiting session...
Now, the page turns on me and you,
The story is about to end, not with a goodbye, with the almost, in a blurry view...