TAKING MY ISLAND FOR A WALK

The bell tolls
& I take

my island
for a walk.

Through London
each of us

taking their island
for an early morning stroll.

Island jostles island
in a rainy bus queque.

We all so
near but never

touching

inches yet
universes apart.

Each locked in
their own consciousness.

Each in the spotlight
of their own being.

"Where were you on
the 8th of October?"

"Where will you be
if Trump wins the day?"

Better not to think of such
things.

"...very very frightening me!"
a passing car radio comments.

Every so often one
island nods to another.

We all so alone
in our prisons of self.

Consciousness both
the curse & the miracle.

Lovers attempt to lash
their islands together.

Only an illusion
...alone....together.

We all shipwrecked
on the desert island of ourselves.

I leave my desert island
off the leash.

And for one glorious second
am neither man nor beast.

Turn off my mind and
float downstream.

Laugh sarcastically as my island
wanders down each chartered street

so bleak
so Blakean.

"The mind-forged manacles I hear..'



"I am a little world made cunningly
Of elements and an angelic sprite..."

Dr. Donne whispers in my ear.

Ahhh John you will always be
the president of me.

I so entirely
tired of  my self.

"The Donald is
the 45th!"

I plead the 5th.

Board a space shuttle
to escape a Trump planet.