no autistic crane-bird, he
After mirror and touch yesterday, another of five or six 'poems' being written simultaneously. And from a narrator immersed in a social world to one describing isolation. Dunno what they're about though.
Still to come, in no particular order, Hecuba said, Victoria Park, Thurston Moore's fingerprints, and possibly another piece as yet untitled. See you soon, play nice.
No autistic crane-bird, he
Have you seen the way he walks
to a song play in only his head?
Crane-bird hooded in the rain
alone in the wetlands.
Future city past city bars
and canals green light harsh light.
Willow leaves through fingers
like slow fish.
Have you seen he carries stillness
how he twitches and shifts?
Moves quickly on the pavement
don't cast a sound.
He can change his colour
vanish into brick
you might hear him whisper
along Deansgate.
Did you hear his breath is poison
that he lives underground?
Crane-bird standing in the mist
then gone.
Still to come, in no particular order, Hecuba said, Victoria Park, Thurston Moore's fingerprints, and possibly another piece as yet untitled. See you soon, play nice.
No autistic crane-bird, he
Have you seen the way he walks
to a song play in only his head?
Crane-bird hooded in the rain
alone in the wetlands.
Future city past city bars
and canals green light harsh light.
Willow leaves through fingers
like slow fish.
Have you seen he carries stillness
how he twitches and shifts?
Moves quickly on the pavement
don't cast a sound.
He can change his colour
vanish into brick
you might hear him whisper
along Deansgate.
Did you hear his breath is poison
that he lives underground?
Crane-bird standing in the mist
then gone.
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