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
enough-of-you
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
too
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