angst cycle (iii)
[ƨ] (ii)

on the horizon
they look like alpine mountains
they’re not of course
running away from this rough train
a line of light beneath

forward and up at a raise arm angle
what looks like a finger smear
across the sky
rain i presume
although i like to think a stem cell

a cloud undecided
what fate it shall bless
on a group of random strangers

you see she
a different she
committed me to memory
when i’d frogmarched
a sky italian friend

to be introduced
to see if his impressed
might mutualise

thing is
her stare & commit
made me do the same

i might have made a playing field
next week lets see
does she turn up
what game shall be played
against whom
how might the clouds bless it

oh
don’t worry
i’m no fool
it’s not me
who’ll be invited
to play

i though would like
to be an audience
seating myself
grabbing myself
the box