Monday, 1 April 2013

1. Where we are going, we don't need roads

Where we are going, we don’t need
roads, or storm shoes,
or oompah
bands to stomp
the cobbled morning streets,
dragging us from our slumber
with ripe mango trumpets.

We don’t need slumber,
quiche or cave walls,
not a single moment of
clutched coverlet
before the rev and rack
of the day.

Where we are going, we
believe resurrection is a two-part
joke played on sailors,
that crows are descended from dinosaurs,
and it must be spring,
because all the beasts are nesting.

Where we are going, we are
hot meat and cha cha.

We don’t need alarm clocks
or beep-beeps or adaptors so wake
me when we get where we are
going, when the road runs out,
at the last of the bassoon.

Or before that, wake me faster,
let the screams hurtle down.
Hit the horn with the flat of your palm.





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