Night time singing





Black black oil windows,

Glass cracking oily breaking

Groaning low deep melody

Seeping seeping, leaking

Night time singing

Bringing sounds, smells,

Sparkles lighting, brighting

Hopeless insubstantial glitter

Pulling black, night-light

Wind in my hair

I have no hair

Whip-lash rocks

Crashing waves

Face numb

Been alive

Still was

Am was

Whipped face numb

Rain lashing

sparked wiring

Fizzed in places

i had never fizzed


Wake up sea, whipped lightning

Sea sung to me.

Take the key

That sits on the polished table

In pride of place

And open the door

That you made and painted

To the prison that you made and painted

and flee with all you want to free.

Before it is too late.

Already you are the gaoler

But you admire your smooth self

When you look at your face trapped

In the permafrost mirror

Above the polished table