When I was inside
When I was inside, outside I heard a man
Shouting nonsense.
What a Racket. I imagined flying spittle
and shining eyes,
A frothy mouthful of tongues,
his tangled mind.
But under my window his garble unfurled
and words leapt up
to patter like stones.
Spotlight, flashlight.
He sang upwards, outwards,
his voice bouncing between the houses
like a pinball,
trapped.
Neon light, neon light.
So the sky, a lofty grey,
Heard only aeroplanes.
Anya Pearson
No comments:
Post a Comment