the radium hands
circled twice
i read biggles
by moonlight
my fingers
explored grey streets
on the paisley
eiderdown
then i tossed
in the waters of sleep
dark waves
from vulnerable cities
tokyo
yokohama
children ran inland
the breath of fish
wet in their ears
surfing the tsunami
its crest reached the moon
crinkly wave tops
were curlicues under the signature of
elizabeth R
i glimpsed
her picture on a wall
in a tom and jerry cartoon
i knew japan was too narrow
to run inland forever
the children turned
to face the mountain of water
tipped like a wall when the clouds blow over
and the stone presses you into the earth
but the wave was soft
and sucked them
like a giant breathing in
quick as jack robinson back
over the hatched countryside
across the prickly city
and out out into the vast pacific
where they sank like dhows and galleons and frigates
and shimmied down to the deep plain below
and sank in sediment up to their necks
and held their breath
for centuries
until they could bear it no longer
and breath burst from their lungs
and they gasped in water
and fire chiselled their capillaries
and fear burnt in the angles of their being
and rage ripped the page from their hearts
and silence filled the ocean
and they listened to the moon
fathoms away
and became masters of motion
liquid and strong
and slipped through the silver
and danced with the song of the sailors
and rose to the surface
and walked the night waters
with stars in their hair
and tangles of archipelagos
under their feet
and reached for dim planets
and blew them to life
flames flew on their faces
and their words like pearls
clattered on the roof of the world
as the children ran
in the grasslands of the sky
and so did i