(20 minute poetry)
Going forward
I'm back on track.
I wonder about the travel of sound
when I'm down here
travelling on the underground
does it speed up or slow down
does it meet London
coming or is it already there?
I also think about ice cream
In various flavours.
Where the light concusses
the head of the queue
and the day sirens in
what can we do but
wonder
who hasn't?
Never a seat when you want one but always the beat in your eardrum and usually it's usually the left one.
The next station.
Not a station of the cross
or Whipps Cross nor
Brent Cross
I get cross
at Waterloo
I wonder
I do
which is
nothing new
nothing is.
Putting things on the back burner is no way to turn over a new leaf.
I fall as autumn falls
soft and slow
a patchwork of evening stars that
cover me
and only the jackdaws to bother me, but they'll fall silent too
sometimes I wonder
I wander
I do.
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
(20 minute poetry)
Going forward
I'm back on track.
I wonder about the travel of sound
when I'm down here
travelling on the underground
does it speed up or slow down
does it meet London
coming or is it already there?
I also think about ice cream
In various flavours.
Where the light concusses
the head of the queue
and the day sirens in
what can we do but
wonder
who hasn't?
Never a seat when you want one but always the beat in your eardrum and usually it's usually the left one.
The next station.
Not a station of the cross
or Whipps Cross nor
Brent Cross
I get cross
at Waterloo
I wonder
I do
which is
nothing new
nothing is.
Putting things on the back burner is no way to turn over a new leaf.
I fall as autumn falls
soft and slow
a patchwork of evening stars that
cover me
and only the jackdaws to bother me, but they'll fall silent too
sometimes I wonder
I wander
I do.
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