plein [H]

great coat striding
i wear
i want to

bleak ladders yellow
telling i can use
climbing like an assured
squirm down

some selfish bugger
smoking in the public place
poisoning the rest of us
at least my nasty habit
no throw slugs into fans

if i were an expert
i’d know to use
but i’m not
so i’m
the vision tells
my ray eyes show me

plainly set
to half obey

in reality
my socks fall down

from the county shack detest
that is yesterday’s mirror
from the instrument
of the last

the pitch of the cello
the colour of machinary
but what else is cello

a surprise urgence
now that’s where i sit
i anticipate a night
punching this expressive art
being pushed
being not merely watching
a performance for miserly days

plainly set out
to half obey

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