Thursday, 14 July 2011

The Swimming Bells


I heard the scream,
So through walls I fell,
A sidewinder of dream:
The swimming bells.

I serenaded stone-white-noise and other idiots,
Where bricks grow.

I love leaning on rain:
Still life on bursting sky:
In every cloud hangs the bath.

Can we parachute from clouds?
Can clouds?

I'll tip my tethered cloud over this one:
A silvery stream liner for dreaming on:
A slidden slumber chandelier,
A wonderful plumping floss flamingo.

Am I insured for domestic cloud explosions?
The monsoon trenches are triggered.
Too late now.

So as I lay myself down on my raindrop eiderdown,
From my concrete floor carnations bloom.