America has the atom, holds the world
in sweaty palms.
Granny gets the telly first...
Wednesday nights at her place watching Quatermass and the Pit,
Until we have to run screaming from her back door, out of our wits,
Terrified through alien darkness, all the way back home from Mars.
you can stay up, if youre in your pajamas
Boy Peter in the kitchen, painting like his dad:
look mum - no hands
now, go and show your father what youve done then
Hes in the sitting-room, cat across his great fishermans-jersey-covered
Picking paint off his hands
Bilko on TV.
He makes me feel good about what Ive done then leaves me with
the painting has to come out of your experience.
Hes 39. Im six.
Fast-forward fifty years
Soliloquy on Autopilot, approaching day one
Heroic mode, with radio
Choosing a level under Disenchantment.
Waiting for the green light to flash:
a new bulb?
Pressing Okay. Press Play
next poet to orbit the earth in a good mood dies
in his sleep.
Re-set Disenchantment. Press Play again
first poet to orbit the earth in a bad mood, abducted
ones got altitude
well take it.
get your long...bony fingers
entering Goldilocks Zone
If it werent so subtle, this could be rock-n-roll.
Day one, door wide to a pagan wind, cant
Day two scrapes-off all day ones careful.
Day three, back of that same door:Held breath all day
Day four, un-pack The Alphabet, the whole ox-cart canvas,
Legs, tails, wheels, dust and all the hollerin it takes to
Write this rain inside my heart and Journey to the Stars
In time for bed, into The Time that Land Forgot
Wheres the Orpheus? Wheres Eurydice?
Deep-in-under where streams meet,
beyond the mark,
species of failure that drives the artist
High above simian
Go Albatross with out-stretched wings
Day five, same door: Friday afternoon and there it is
Ride The Ancestral right through day six, up-out the ground
Into another suburb of brussels
fall-off and get-up-again.
Fall over a second time.
are not my trousers.
Nostalgia...both knees. Wheres Pegasus?
Saddle-up the Palomino
go hedge-comb a stretch of ivy...
Find an old still-fading envelope still damp with premonition -
Lasts Lost Archive of Resolutions - inside, Essentials
Check out more sunsets
Never trust an
Day seven, ladder up against a sky with no wrong walls,
Half a life of metaphor and no forwarding address
If it wasnt quite so like sky-diving, or taking the next breath,
Id take up painting, like old Wallis
my fingers look bony?
youre in my orbit.
whats paint got to do with it?
Matthew Lanyon May
in the Sky II
Time that Land Forgot