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under the eye I
have to imagine
dizzy with this world
here I am
other end of the
telescope
only a theory you know
here I am again
and for a symptom
such a long way down
I really cannot be seen
not even hearsay
still start a rumour
by this means prove
certain things
will go unnoticed
it’s a whole world
they won’t see
hear
they may be a myth
may well be
ear to the ground
and put an eye to
cruel music I am made
that’s certain
in my strange image of
plenty
first breaths, last
an alphabet as yet
unknown
and just about my
business go
the moral of the story
struck by a sun so much
larger than life
look up from under that
much crafted lens
simply to say hello
for me from 'cruel music ... on ' makes a fine chorus itching to be sung. (not that i'm a musician)
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