peter jerrim

for years
I yodelled
among the hills
of charmed preexistence
now it’s
planked dark country

and each plank
a card
and on it many stairs
in the style of Escher offering
infinite egress
but no escape

now no more yodelling
all night I listen to the
worms
and whispers in your heart
and as I travel time
I tighten as I shrink

to a pin prick
treading on this
pin pricked planet
slipping
on your tears
the scattered dew