Kit Kelen #923 - the place dreamt is always under construction

923

the place dreamt is always under construction

once we were

but there is no once

everything's just where I left

and easily pick up the tune

those trapped were saved

hand over hand

we hauled them up

take refuge in the dream

it's breath under breath

littered with

awash

why say?

when we're already here

in shedding forever

towers

no words

but I called the skies blue

as if we were all made of day

who'll come and dream the thing with me?

the ache-and-roll over (Freud's somatic)

who'll fill the wish?

someone swam off

never a web

or a finger of dust

though everything

was is

new

words in the words

and under and through

this is the camp

where we process ourselves

it might have been for years

you know the handwriting

you'll recognise this breath

ponds and tanks

all infrastructure tucked away

wound verandas

inner courts

here I come

viscount, emir

saunter from seraglio

the every animal sad

this is me lifting a leg on life

so much sorry we

with whom to share?

music of fountains

the village abandoned

the town to the last shingle rebuilt

sprawl

wide-lounged

elevenses, yardarm

on till picnic

then was snifter

sup and tuck

all around us the mountain

there is no deciding in us

we must accept them all

parrot, pigeon

calf and buck

whiffy bone litter

where somebody died

snake

and lamb with lion mine

you can see into the music here

and someone flew

the grove we grew

the light we cast

the miracle of nothing changed

when I am with the years

there have been ruins

and set to sea

and all these woods were wings to chime

present to me

the track rolls as

have to admit

I was quite a darling

before I went bad

and I've been since

cuddle in will ya

it's every night this

always waking before the world was

waking to this every dreamt day

as if it were the place collecting

believe to this world

always waking belief

and I who built all this

godlike in my making God

wake winking to you all too

a sheltering in showers, storms
and from the wind-up sun

here for the hunt

I set my clocks on time

isn't it home to be here?

you tell me