Monday 28 April 2014

#28 Sonar

Personal boxing - one-to-one. Tone fast!

I toddle down steps
Swapping stares soaked in adrenaline
Mine mellowing,
Flipping legs tick-tock,
Bagged and shouldered
Through the door,
I tip my hat to a cold
I'm not feeling yet.

Mind you, looking at those flumes now - they're actually tiny...

The discipline of seal-folk
Is a plait of after-dinner chlorine
Goggle-blind and arcing
We reconstruct plash and echo
Out here in the dark

Large chips for the lady. Large chips now! To go!

Caramel polyglot slots orders,
And eyebrows, surprised by his own
Return smile.
This is a place of serious conversation
Man-talk, pizza-based debates

Shokran. Bel'afiah. Sala'am alaikum! Ah!

He flips a salute,
His smile still wary, but settling,
Swerves back to cuff someone
With height and youth
And words

Осы маған алып бер-! Мен солалқындыру білемін!

Slim fingers haggle in the dark,
Darting over the tiny car,
Birthed in parts from
The lotus crotch of chocolate,
Delight manifesting in
Brightly-coloured clicks
Just in time - all rise
For the lumbering beacon.

... greatly overexpressed in adipose tissue...

Graphs dance,
Sinuous as late-night swimmers,
Bisecting words
Waving, as I sneak
A shoulder-glance at my past

We climb inside tiny screens
And printed screeds
And fingernails
And the slick trail of lights
We are night-bound
And homeward
Rapt in our nodding
Towards journey's end.

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