After a day of wondering
The faintly-heard whispering, rasping vibrations
I've been blaming on aliens or neighbours
is realised to be wasps under the eaves
Returning from the gym
Sun catching ivy on tree trunks
turns it to chain-mail
them into well-armoured sentries
flanking a naked brown spy
Small fantasy
and supplanted
fence-posts
enter into a conspiracy
against the fine
upstanding
one.
At breakfast, with the crossword
Momentary alarm
before remembering
that microwaved apricots
smell like charred wood
and again for 'macaque'
before remembering
the word is 'maquette'
before remembering
that microwaved apricots
smell like charred wood
and again for 'macaque'
before remembering
the word is 'maquette'
This is my entry for Steve Wing's thoughtfully-edited Language:Place Carnival #16, the theme of which is 'Translation', the menu for which can be accessed by clicking the link.
I very much enjoyed those - especially the small green conspirative fantasy. And the line on aliens & neighbours, which sketches our modern world and all its implications in such a short, vivid way.
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