1489 c/o Rebecca Perry

amazed by the caution of human gesture


breathe your lungs out into the air
maybe the birds will feel the expansion of it.


perhaps the air right now
could only smell this one way
with its billion component parts
and dead skin of the not-living
and fires and weather conditions
and tastes of spices in and out
of our mouths, insides, mouths


we carry the small fragments of ourselves
like parrots on our shoulders
the socks lined up neat as conkers
the firmly held belief that it is lucky
to be hit in the face by a falling leaf.


we are allowed to cry in the toilets at work
when someone young dies
quickly and quietly.


i feel as if my body once held two people
and now I am lost inside this stretched out skin
a little deaf, perhaps heartbroken,
walking on, unable to keep out the cold.


there are heroes, yes
people mountains were made for


when there is not enough for us
we will go to the moon
and dig and break. we will gather
up sunlight and bring it back
in drums and boxes and vaults


you – pen, paper, biscuit –
saying house, bridge, fountain, gate,
jug, tall grass, fruit-tree, window –
at most: column, tower, castle


see: the Rider, the Staff, Fruit-Garland
see stars - see both living and being dead,
or the possibility of it.
see Ursa Major, see the one that looks like
a something and then something else again


tell me how good it is
to wake from a bad dream
and have someone there and I will tell you
how butterfly wings stay dry in the rain