Poem 254
A sequel to Poem 219 … distance doing its work …
( ‘Good morning America‘ from the song City of New Orleans … I like the heart as a magic clock box – it’s also a reference to what I call a weather clock with the woman who pops out for sun and the man for rain so they can never be in the same place/weather at the same time … )
Letter From America
I can still hear you over here will you cut out that thinking shut up the magic clock box of your heart? slap down an ocean or two and your thoughts of me are like tremors in the water fish attempting to break the food chain and take flight good morning America good morning you drifting ashy photographs the bad weather in your letter was a code what you were really saying was remember the two of us on the floor not even bothering to listen to the rain when you sleep now I wake jet planes between us when you wake now I sleep I like it that way but my dreams are developing dreams narratives blowing out like bad tyres how long before the summer comes to America and the rain stops falling to remind you to send letters? soon by the look of the sky down here cold stepping straight through the glass