Michael Scarborough.

‘2 o’clock flight from paris’ or ‘ernest hemingways last breaths’

I am gazing out

at tomorrow

at the fresh wind

suddenly giving

the future memory

like dead aircraft

in flight over

the green sea

creatures

i want to sit on the roof and be sad

the sun also crisis

isnt it pretty to think

smiling into the distance

at four a.m. at night
that nobody ever lives

their life all the way up

except

‘bull-fighters in the rain’

as the air sings

‘you will never be in love’
over and over

behind my chest

Sheffield, May 2012

a remix of Joe Vaughan/Ernest Hemingway

El Marqués de los Jardines de Aranjuez

or was it just me, this horrible primitive caveman

staring through the window where

all was still, still this is who I am

and though I thought I knew you well

all is gone, leaving just who I am -

the wolf, a leopard, the young lion amongst

the citizens, living

out our world, where everything

passes by slowly like the pace of the planets

out of Earth, and far

from this cold universe of broken planets hurtling the gulf,

to Aranjuez, on rainy days, back when I was small

born to be a listener, rather

than the creator, the waves break,

below, in submarines,

I try to grapple Springsteen

and all of his damned-American love songs,

and my life feels far from real,

because reality has no air

Hoddesdon, April 2012

First published as part of the 24Project

Corinda

I am becoming emotionless, going back to the soil

we return to the dirt, in the dust-

hungry at the different level, head out to Corinda

May 2012, Sheffield
I feel this as the smallness of something yet to come