#42

I realise we have stopped
somewhere in the wilderness
there is a platform
smooth and empty
pools of light emphasising the darkness
trying to examine past the square of visibility
my cheaply-dyed red hair and teddy-boy glasses move with me
getting in the way, keeping me inside the carriage
Stay put. Remember you’re not as cool as you think you are.
I will the blackness to ease, to deliver up
semi-interpretable shapes
and as I watch
a face appears
not there but
right in front of me
a stubbly-bald grimace grin of gaps
and cracked lips
cartoon-wide
not moving, but smiling
no cloud of breath appears
on the glass between us
not breathing, then, but looking
Here I am, I feel it think
You wanted something to look at.

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