EVERYWHERE

EVERYWHERE

everything is moving
and we
are moving with it

takes you by surprise
doesn’t it
to find there is
no still point

and this poem:
you think it is on
the page, on the screen

of this you may
be certain but actually it isn't

the words are, yes indeed
the words are but the poem isn't

it’s location is unspecified
somewhere betwixt
and between will leave you to find, discover exactly where

for I must fly
by metaphor and
transport

SPOOKY TO THINK

SPOOKY TO THINK

Here is my poem
wrapped up inside
another poem

not sure exactly
which poem it is
you are reading or
whether this
that you are reading
counts
and qualifies
as a poem at all

by any stretch of
the imagination
and relativity (special
and general) and quantum
Physics
have proved beyond
a shadow
of a doubt
how elastic and
multi-dimensional
your imagination can be

reading this rubbish here
and making gorgeous
sense
of it, leaving me
wondering
what gorgeous sense it is
you might make of me
(could well be)

but first operation
would seem to be
to dissolve the space
between us

to act as if we are entangled
in the way we spin
(universes
spinning around each other
like bubbles of froth in
the foam of your latte)

and your
wisdom such as
to leave me
gaping, gawping
foaming at the mouth

neither
of us here empirically
or raw-
red physically

our existence co-created even
as we reach this sentence at this very

future past present moment
forever
postmongering

spooky to think

spooky to think.