“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