I’m sure I saw slices suggesting
a cook has been busy with baking
and sweetness is what I crave most.
Look in my eyeballs, mate, balls
to your oranges, apples, bananas;
forget 5-a-day, throw a bolas
at brothers parading with cake and
drag all their cake to the cake stand,
sprinkling sugar deep snow.
I’ve gobbled up meat and potatoes
and now I want glory and joy.
Train’s tracking north,
when he spots barren trees,
feels an ancient pang
- the missing of a special child.
Even disconnected – like the coldest
winter twigs - he hangs on – and hopes
another summer comes and melts the ice
on hard converging tracks.
Alone, in time and space,
one glance of hares in spring,
of children laughing,
melts his eyes
and turns those rails
left and right – out, away -
into a sunnier heart
…and I travel backwards on a train
knowing I’ll return tonight, back to the starting
station - not in light - in the dark…
…but now, many clouds are hanging
united and disunited,
there – a seal; there – a lying man;
there – a dinosaur and there – a map of Sicily;
and there, and there and there… and there…
…but wait - now look - a shape unrealized
and, no matter how I try,
my mind refuses to conceive
one form that hangs and moves
imperious on high;