sometimes when i’ve forgotten how
and what it is I’m meant to
and panic in me rises
when everyone around me seems to know
even the great Romanian painter
joyful – sad at his table
planet head in his painterly hands
over and over saying what i am doing ?
when even he has recognised it’s this, just this
i take myself quick stick
to the great cathedral they’ve opened up in town
the one buttressed to the heavens
vaulting bones against the stars
selling off the bright salvation
and i secrete myself inside her inner sanctum
and there amongst the stainless steel
the triple tiered bins including food caddy
the le creuset stoneware
laid out according to its season
i slide my fingers across egyptian cotton
counting threads until my mind is settled
and peace swells and when the helpful boy
with freckles asks
and can I help you madam
i smile and say: no (i have been helped enough)
and in my heart soars joy
dazzling wicked without bounds
i can taste the universe
i can hear the swallows
chatting on the wire in these last days
as they make the final arrangements
for the great journey
the part of me which still doesn’t get it, suddenly shouts
(kneeling on a claret wool loop berber up in soft furnishings)
Take
Me
With
You
the birds smile and click
they click and smile
they say: here or gone
we live inside you
dancing always
Find Us

i am in love with it
with all of it
with all these shapes
sighings hopings wantings
all this hair flicking turning on its heel
the bread is burnt the cake is sweet
the rain is coming
i’m in love with it all
for it is her
dancing inside of him
for he is the empty and
she is the everything and
i am their child
doubtful terrified tip toe
balanced on the screaming-through-the-dark
perpetual cresting tip of their bliss

what is my name ?
you will find it under your pillow
whom do i love ?
you will find him in the next room
and the next and the next
where do i love ?
you will not find any in which you do not
what stops me from the still divine, all of it ?
this: words, worlds, thinking

so on monday
i decided to Be-that-Longing
with every fibre of my being
(as though i had a choice)
i’ll let you know in a week
or so
how it’s working out

no one dancing anything
no one being anything
all of us being danced
all of us being nothing
and inside any of that
everything

today i’m her
coming in my thick boots
fearless not cold
coming over mountains
one way: this
to him
him with eyes which cut all the way through
ripping up the weeds
persistent as the mind
blind me
free me
make me fucking nothing
they say it wasn’t easy that time around
the rocks have truths i don’t want to hear
licking walls inside the caves
letting the demons roll and cold so fucking cold
but who wants easy
when you could fly
but i grown soft on spaghetti and tv
and cappuccino served in cups with fucking saucers
what do i know ?