Mar 2020
No blue moon in the cupboard tonight.
So much for the well worn thesis.
Here's where it runs out of gas. Only tinkling flowers
And bare rhapsody,
Shivering like a ****** in the night.
It's here, and here, and here.
Places I can only show
In the dark.
Things which have no name.
But here, and here,
Feel their shape?
Dim, Oslo in the rain.
And the Nazis occupy
The last of the city.
It's here, and here, and here.
It's nowhere, nothing.
As ideas scatter like ghosts.
Dry places, bones of dust.
It's here, and here, and here.
So much for the well worn thesis.
Here's where it runs out of gas. Only tinkling flowers
And bare rhapsody,
Shivering like a ****** in the night.
It's here, and here, and here.
Places I can only show
In the dark.
Things which have no name.
But here, and here,
Feel their shape?
Dim, Oslo in the rain.
And the Nazis occupy
The last of the city.
It's here, and here, and here.
It's nowhere, nothing.
As ideas scatter like ghosts.
Dry places, bones of dust.
It's here, and here, and here.
The idea for this poem was loosely based o the Marathon Man. Lawrence Olivier was drilling Dustin Hoffman's tooth without novicane trying to extract information. He kept repeating 'Is it safe?' Over and over. It was chilling. Writers soak that up Like a sponge.
