the nth bar in

persuades me
to rally now while I’m vulnerable
to gravity – its tides, complexities

the synthetic
me will rally, too
its waves in waves wash

under me, there’s some spume
left beyond
this epoch

enough for the
creature it’s

enough to care
for here
in your perfect placement

in the nth bar in
of the nth movement
and does their come

a beginning again?
I’ve listened to this symphony
since I was sixteen

and a lifetime later
I hear its syntheses
play me again

but what’s in it
for you, babe, you’re
far away and the gravity

waves gain
on you again

what comes next
when the invisible
conformity between us

caresses time?
at least in my mind it’s you
I’m listening for

but are you listening in
for me, or the didgeridoo
that hallows my

necessity? you see
there’s a vast back catalogue
if choose we could, I remember

your level eyes
brimmed blue and racing
through the park your tiny

car just fitting on the paths
then on the grass, sliding,
swerving between trees

I didn’t have a licence then
but you did, you exploited it
to good effect