Inner world travel (a poem)

Listening to the new Ruby Throat compilation this morning…

Doldrums sea blue tack
adrift in a bus stop
from someone else’s fantasy

Hiding somewhere
a sodium bath drawn
for no particular purpose

If I’m forced to pick my fiction
I choose the one
requiring the least effort

Truth is hard enough
to reconcile with itself

When that last bite of food
is hard to swallow
a choice must be made

This morning is awash
in glockenspiel accents
and fragile melodies

The sky is grey
to match the ground
the water reflects in sympathy

Will steam rise from the road
when the sun comes out?
I don’t go that way anymore

The bus never went out that far

(3 November 2018)


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