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

SOMETHING

SOMETHING

something there
is that wants to
get in through my doors
get in
through my windows

drag me before a mirror
make a blood bath of
my resignation
iron
on iron
sharpening
massacre my comfort zone

lead me out through
the jagged glass
into dark pastures
where the Earth has
opened up
is truly volcanic
and my house, once so
safe and secure, boarded
and guarded
is now a thing that
can scarcely be regarded more
than a gutted shell