once again
looping the loop
of the Möbius strip
of daylight
above the door
eternally alone
as frosted glass
in a tiny floating
hall
needles of sunlight
have punched their
way
through gilded
sewers
of byzantine
finery
capering along the
denied skyline
time and space in a
vice
a life writhing
wars and revolutions
pass
and the neighbour’s
car
are their children
that old now?
will my coffin
be secure?
what I admire about this poem is the way that I can enter it any point, read a few lines and voila, another poem within a poem emerges - mobius strip, indeed. (I've been reading it like this on and off all day, btw.)
ReplyDeletejust had to add, that's a killer 'couplet', 'are their children that old now?/will my coffin be secure?'
ReplyDeletethank you so much Efi — I was pleased with the poem but I didn't realise it would have such an impact!
ReplyDelete