What we are up to


by Emma Hammond

i have seen you
here and there in rpm
silently gold in your smiling
and olden as raining

so gone to the shops
in my tweed sarcophagus
if there in the capsule
you'd be
would i know you?

and are you over-priced
and over-ripe of dreaming
is your face clean
can i inspect yr legs
are you suspicious of roads-
as endless?

an elk bright
pylon by the fire
straddling the scrapes and injuries
of a life designed for wondering-
your hand is the side of me
steeped in gristly
ghost-coloured flowers

and i am this to you:

hundreds and hundreds of cheering
a brand new
brown paper wrapped overlord
warm liquid agar

the smell of the railway
an underwater castle door
sharpened knife

and more-

like a peculiar blue-eyed horizon