Friday, March 25, 2016

Sarah St Vincent Welch #83 Morpheus on Good Friday




places a rollie on his lip,
the 'racehorse' is slim, frayed
tinder fast

he watches me clean
pushing the vacuum round,
is squinty-eyed, tetchy,
throws back his lank hair.

I settle his leather coat
on the arms of an outstretched
hanger
then strip the bed

we are circumspect
as I clean the toilet
on my knees with the brush

its the turn of the year
and we agree its just beginning
down under here
at the gate of the underworld
the southern hemisphere
in the tail of a comet
at the event horizon
of a double dissolution

a mowers mowed the garbage
confetti filth flies wild

Morpheus never helps,
but follows
takes a tinnie from the fridge
humming my circadian rhythm
out of tune, out of time,
swiping his phone




4 comments:

  1. This Morpheus creature, geez! Where did you find him?

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  2. He is born from a troubled relationship with sleep, and I think it occurred to me the long hours awake when wanting to sleep were a bit like the god of sleep visiting you but not allowing you to sleep. And then he gained this character, is very present to me, the leather coat I think an unconscious reference to the leather gear in The Matrix were there is a character called Morpheus, but I recall he is a goodie in that film, not a baddie, like my one. I think I haven't finished exploring the possibilities of this character yet. :)

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