and god,
my dear poor god,
how you were gone!
liquid sea congealing,
tantric nightmare,
son of adam fallen from the ground
and out and over that tree
so much hope bottled
and sent out to supermarkets
a beeline from the dairy case
rush of refrigerated air,
pushed over the ocean
over the waves
thrashing and crashing upon my chest
there in the emerald aisle
i raise my right forefinger to the sky
and part the clouds like curtains.
/ 'seeing my shadow' - 7 january 2011
