An impression of
artificiality
the sky from Bangor,
Gwynedd
An impression of
artificiality
as if drawn curtains
were suspended, but
ineptly. Maybe some
hooks have failed since.
A skull of fabric
from torn radiance
behind blinding
emptiness, full of itself,
leaving the broad
meander sinuous
going nowhere crack-clacker of lightning
no sound no sound announcing its great distance
when it does
bang metal sonority
discarding lidded light flare disturbing
claims our getting
closer river of depth
a road from a distant
part carelessly
scrambling towards
the same forms of backed force
darkness; and, also,
worse;
a
mask surface
is marked with lines
which might well be felt tip
with variance and
varying pressures
from a giant's
hand a river widening
towards an estuary
that's beyond reach.
Poor light gets in at
drooping parts, firmly,
where they hang low,
though the material is penetrated.
Poor light getting
worse. Close-patterned surface
quick-crossed by
lines which might well be felt tips
at variance and
varying pressures
from a giant's hand.
River widening more
towards an estuary
that's never been reached
bare fabric torn
across radiance behind
blinding emptiness leaving broad meander
sinuously going
nowhere to crack
clatter of sharp
lightning no sound no sound
announcing its great
distance becoming sonority
discarding more light
flurries of discordance
dustbin lid road from a distance carelessly
scrawling towards the
same focus backing it gloom
no traffic just jaunty whiteness darkening
mango flowering
bright into northerly gloom
for our brief
excitement; and drawn quickly,
the inhabitants
withdrawn more quickly
gone before they're
sketched from the vacated
territory on
flimsiness and other lines
which add no sense to
the map meaningless angles
over the top as it
begins to fold,
no traffic just jaunty whiteness dainties
mango flower bright
into northerly gloom
drawn quickly, the
inhabitants withdrawn
even more quickly
gone before they're sketched
a vacated territory
on flimsiness;
other lines, which
add no topography
crash at functionless
angles over its top
as it begins to fold,
badly folding.
Copyright (c)
Lawrence Upton 2018
No comments:
Post a Comment