Monday, 2 May 2011

Hole in the Wall


“You can skip this ad in 5 seconds”
a YouTube video tells me
but it will only lead to another before
I am allowed to watch seed pods
follow the dictates of the wind,
like crowds in a disaster film
or spectators at a wedding,
whilst smoke turns light to artefacts
in an image of an opal fountain
and I wonder how best to repair
the hole that I punched in the wall.

The impact of your distance is
still too close a grief to mention
as breath and flesh too soon become
mere memories and words,
tokens of what once was
and of what should be still,
like the Polish immigrants drinking
surgical alcohol under a bridge
out of sight is not out of mind
although your absence is
driving me out of mine.

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