*
Time passes - that pressure in
space again - return of the unoriginals
tinkering with the power-box -
such fine work - setting traps out
for darkness. Time passes -
talons curve and hook - how the
mouth chokes with ash. Feet drag
muffled under dungeons. Time passes -
that pressure in space again - a
new proclamation from Semiotic City -
this custom built dome and
aquarium light, pulsing: henceforth,
no corners to hide around - no zone
permitted for surprise to leap.
*
Hugely, our indifference squats -
unleavened as fear, blood is contained
within news footage. Archaeologists
stop digging deserts because of
landmines. Camels wait for sand dunes
to drift into ridges - blue flags flutter
back at Fort Apache on brave
white trucks (what gets through
is the scent of coffee). A footless boy
hobbles past, bargain hunting,
a life at odds & ends - smoke drifts
over Manhattan, out across the Hudson
river as from a Bedouin campfire.
*
Circuit; right hand wise,
homage to the sun - as did ancient
Celts, Scythians, too - host to
the Milesians on their last leg to
Ireland as the first Celts castaway -
whose home precinct the Black Sea,
the right hand to the centre;
memoried in standing stone circles.
Yet homage to a sun as walking
pillar of fire, with hell for a coronet?

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