peter jerrim

it’s the idea of the girl

the girl
the idea of the girl in the west
of the west
the idea
of a girl sleeping
it’s the idea of her sleeping
she sleeps an idea
in a white dress in a bed
a bed
she sleeps in the west in a bed
she’s an idea
sung by Salli Terri
on a record
sung on a record on a record player
in 1969 in a bedroom a room
in 1969 the windows
the windows of the room face
the windows face north
to other windows
facing north
I lie white
in a white dress in a bed in an idea in the west
in a song a
traditional song
an autobiographical love song
I blink at the ceiling
lit by a lamp
running across it meandering like
a tributary of the Avon
a line
the warm milk of
my lover seeps over my legs
my brown legs in a dress
it’s a night dress a
wedding dress in the west
it trickles
and the fine line
the fine line on the ceiling’s
like the groove in the record it’s Salli
Terri the salty singer she will sing
this song forever
in the groove in the line he
turns from the window
he turns he
wants me
always wants me
he always he’s
always north
looking through the window
another window
to the north, in the north
two men
are landing on the moon
their voices
crackling still in our heads they
descend to the sea
to the sea I can’t
I can’t remember the sea
of equilibrium
they descend they’re close
still flying north too fast they nearly
crash
on the moon the moon the
cold ovum calm
poised
planetesimal
the men land they admire they
bounce towards the curved horizon
I’m in a dress in a bed
I’m an idea of a girl
in a bed
in the west country
my love is a love
of high degree
he’ll leave me he’ll leave
wading through
memory
he wants me again and again
I’m simply his
idea of a girl in a bed
in a room staring
at the ceiling the fine
line in the
ceiling
the dawn coming
the lover coming standing
the window waiting
waiting for the dawn on the moon
the men bouncing we saw it on tv
anything is possible
now