imagining reality

down a long hallway

a wall between us

i imagined you and you

appeared

some magical connection

our planets fused

the universe split so

many times since

where do you orbit

do you ever think

of me 

and that time of

rawness of

fire the universe crackling

virile with creation and

possibility

is this what love is

is this what love is

light touches eyes in

eyes whispers in

ears conversation about 

things like current

affairs and how lovely

this wine is and of course

they don’t have 

spawn and really how 

long have their rings

been on and all

these other reasons

why it’s not cold and

so agonisingly deafeningly

inconsequential

to feel again

did you notice

fill up the spaces

fill up the spaces

to feel again

to feel again

to feel again

to feel again

to feel again

to feel again

to feel again

to feel again

to feel again

to feel again

1,229,904,000 moments

the fire

my son

wife

fluffy cloud cat

surrounding me

and this book

the quiet hum of

warmth

love,

all

my 

loves.

outside now

the hum of small talk

look at this toy

i’m going in here

hi how are you what would you like

i’m thinking of shaving my head

do it

i’ll have to wear a hat though it’s winter it’ll be cold 

a gentle breeze moving

concrete in the sky

a flash of orange the long hood the curves

of my favourite car

i watch it drive by

suns, moons, stars

rising, setting

tides, me, breathing in out

a thousand times

in

out

i watch, through

my helmet,

this giant sphere as through space it

hurtles

inside now i watch them

move, lie, breathe

my world

i love you ollie, my son.

the light turns

off suddenly

the stars come

lighting up a wall of

wonder and childhood

awe, the

little fellow

sleeping now i watch

him breathe and

can kiss his head and

cheek and undo all

the failures of the day

i imagine him saying “daddy 

stop it your beard

is tickling me”

but in sleep, now i find love again

all the chest

pain and wide eyes and

panic of the day now

subsides 

and

under these fake

stars full 

of wonder

and from somewhere between

the piles of guilt and

incompetence and fear

rises now a pure

radiant

a love for 

my 

son.

sunlight and leaves streaming 

in and birdsong and

my son whistling,

this quiet hum i think

it’s going to be

a better year

with more

moving more

sitting 

more breathing

more presence and

peace

in

out

in

out

back

gently

back

gently

a thousand times

it’s been

a while

lying, fat and

stuck in malaise in

this suit now too tight i 

swirl in memories of batman and

batgirl and sunsets and turquoise 

waters and now it is all just

aches

i love you daddy
you’re my superhero

the generic art generic plants are they real actually i think they are and of course they would be money is made in this place the generic enlarged anatomy diagrams the generic nice view the generic Muzak the generic magazines generic furniture and a generic logo that doesn’t make any sense and right in the generic off centre of it, me, a generic vessel with symptoms and signs

goldfish with thumbs

here we are

folded necks

connected

tubes

our helmets insulating

us in to numbers in red 

circles

the goldfish watch

us

goldfish with 

thumbs

“i love
you
daddy”




and
i melt

our lips barely
touch
as we hover, leaning
over the divide that
has yawned between
us, invisible

something that once carried
so much, now is
a formality
a stereotyped gesture
pretending to
be the Glorious
Past

in to
the darkness her
light
goes

and i am left
with the
echoes of

his

pathetic

screams



and


the thunder
of






regret

no matter
what
there will
be
sacrifices

how do you
tell the one
you love
that
you wish you
could go
back to
chasing dreams
in sleep because
the disappointment of
waking up and
hearing him
was
too
crushing