the room is furring
silky web-like spheres are floating and collapsing softly against everything
but when I walk into them they stick and snag
I fall backwards
upside down, suspended
my eyes fix on a scribble
curl around wrought iron bars twisting in a nature crash
pull me towards a distant scribble harbour -
I see glinting boats and tinkling sails, gulls soaring golden white
charcoal shadows swarming over grey land
swarming now into the shape of a man, running
I feel like I should run
glinting and tinkling grow into deafening drilling, blinding flashes
a black blood fracture rips through everything like a tornado eye -
I am in my room.
weary headed, I go to bed.
a rope shimmers gold in the tannic sky
tied in a love-knot by the ancients
a pendulum
inscribes the rusty dunes
makes the heavens speak
wrenched warlike from the sky
by a quivering hand
throws off a crop of golden shimmers
twisting shadow snakes
and I never saw a thing
more startling
than this black land spilling
over everything
back towards the blackness I hear it coming I feel it hurtling down
sky cracks open like an egg and shatters in an ocean of glass knives -
I am in a forest of glass
crystal twigs snapping in the icy night
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