GARDENING IN NO MAN’S LAND


“pink –
 if the demons would have presented
 they would not be black
 they would be pink”

open your mouth
and out pops a universe
always all ready here

place the bottle on the table
does space move
discreetly
to one side
nudging
to the furthest reaches of the cosmos

or there is no bottle
only space
that ripples
red in green

the soul weighs as much
as a slice of bread
we put the soul on the table
and shout at it


a figure right of vision
seeing it
as if
in the night sky
reading the avenues of trees behind it
and their shadows

what is
this beneath the stars

this is your journey
from Madeleine Street to Autumndale Road
places which sound plausible
but do not exist