I see you,
In that split-second moment as we pass,
Moments before you fill my rearview
With your iridescent flash, my heart
With pounding, in the very same moment
That you see me.
You have always seen me,
I remember as I drive away,
A probe like a middle-eastern drone
Wreaking havoc on civilians,
Innocence impossible to glimpse
Mechanically, in the black and white
Moment of a moment
That you see me, infrared.
I’ve seen you before,
And I’ve always stayed anonymous,
A shadow born and raised
In the paranoid state
Of post-Homeland, post-Snowden,
You didn’t know then that
Such slow speed was still fleeing,
Me from you, non-government
With a yellow face and character,
Squareheaded Simpson nightmare
That has me when it sees me.
We all see you,
Fear you or revere you
Or deceive you with what you want
From us, obedience in the shape
Of a red-circle obscured
Behind trees that you planted,
Synoptic Eye – you see me
But I know you.
All of my emotions felt atomic.
Every fibre, heavy
Like when it rains on your favourite
Jumper, soggy and drenched all over,
Feeling like two coats, the inner one is a glacier.
Chemical and physical.
Laws of nature. How many scientists does it take?
Bad jokes that would make another me laugh, crack up
At the punchline as if it walloped me personally.
My toes stiffen, cold and tired and the very ends of my hair
Seem to groan like creaky hinges in the pre-winter wind.
Footsteps echo from three years ago as I walk,
Same fate. Trifecta of triumphs that might have been
If 'same' was not a substitute for everything mundane
Or purely painful. Pointless?
In my hands like arthritis, seizing, a spectre of the fear
The former author had, who lies in wait somewhere
Beneath the core of my "soul", buried by obituaries he wrote
Not on purpose, sealing the lid on the coffin of his "talent";
Us. The both of us and all
The other mes lying in or under,
Taking up space, making up weight to hold us down
As one flesh, a mind in desperate need of rest that's
Seeing double multiplied, fiddling
With a Rubix Tetrahedron to the point of
Distraction til it can't get off the couch without crying.
I'm watching it, I recognise something...
We're lying here. Waiting.
The Red Shoes
As I listen to Her sing you dance past me,
Narcissus of the ballroom, red Nike shoes
Flashing like a beacon, a signal
Of you and your possibilities,
A dance for two that would free me,
Enrapt and trapped in an ugly embrace
If Shuffle had dealt a different card,
Held out the first bars
Of King Of The Mountain
I would see a sign anyway, a roadsign
Commonplace and biblical, stop and yield
And one way, then in the streets
I would fall to my knees and sing along
To a variation of your red-shoed footstep's
Pavement-pounding song, worshipping you.
I can't stop worshipping You. I am saved.