A paperback companion
Tumbles behind fingers
Like a cliff-top fall.
Breathless anxiety
Cannot succour
Nor longer hinder
A deathly sleep hour.
I shook like the first time,
Unaware you’re not here anymore.
Everything dead :
Bloodless entirely.
Yet I will not remain
As before,
Here in this vertical city
There are spindly, writhen African
Stone and wood
Under naval fleets
On oil night-black seas.
Georgian buildings stood
Long before me.
In the icy air,
Nervous of experience,
I’ll return
To an empty park seat.
To an atom bomb sunlight.
The bird-shit acquiescence.
To sleep again.


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