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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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