Ink falls spherical in the air
and maintains that shape while falling.
Ink in the air’s a gymnast tucking
her legs and arms into her core.
Hitting water everything contained
within the frame of its own self
spiderwebs out and so becomes
vaguer and more formless as it grows.
Days in human memory appear like this:
Clear for hours after they’re provisionally made,
then all fade and deformation as they tend
to nothing but suggestion in the end.
Oct 25, 2019
Oct 25, 2019 at 11:36 AM UTC
Ink falls spherical in the air
and maintains that shape while falling.
Ink in the air’s a gymnast tucking
her legs and arms into her core.
Hitting water everything contained
within the frame of its own self
spiderwebs out and so becomes
vaguer and more formless as it grows.
Days in human memory appear like this:
Clear for hours after they’re provisionally made,
then all fade and deformation as they tend
to nothing but suggestion in the end.
B.T. Joy is a British poet and short fiction writer living in Glasgow. He has also lived in London, Aberdeen and Heilongjiang, Northern China. His poetry and short fiction has appeared in magazines, journals, anthologies and podcasts worldwide including poetry in Yuan Yang, The Meadow, Toasted Cheese, Numinous: Spiritual Poetry, Presence, Paper Wasp, Bottle Rockets, Mu, Frogpond and The Newtowner, among many others. His debut collection of poetry, Teaching Neruda, was released in 2015 by Popcorn Press and his 2016 collection Body of Poetry is also available through Amazon. He can be reached through his website: http://btj0005uk.wix.com/btjoypoet