Pointing Around Corners

The great piano exploded, as I took it upon the train

We were bound for africa, Guinea Fowl flying with us

I caught the invitation disease from a man called Leslie

He had lived the rich life for most of his, he was lucky, metallic

I looked out the window at the wheelbarrow view

It was my holiday, it made me think of medicine and Christ

A remedy for some, a pain for others

Ivory coasts were sold to the men from the chain-gang

I sang my own harmony to the corpse in the cap 

I had to face the problem of leaving

I had to be reminded of dumb fact, shining colour

Nothing reminds me, so, why ask questions of ego?

Sermons written upon orange rocks, on buildings

We lost our ability to choose, we lost our ability to swim

The center of the ocean held one man in a boat

He was taking off all his clothes, dizzy, about to sink into velvet

Green, bright, spheres of light shooting upward

Everything meaning more than he himself could believe in 

The last flower he saw was a Geranium

Exploding forth from the plant that held it 

He plucked a leaf and smelt it as he crushed it in his hand

In his mind he saw an exploding train

In his mind he saw the crates and carts burst into flames

In his mind a piano exploded on this train

All on the palm of his hand

All of the things that I have ever done

Are kept hidden in the cave near a fence of rock

With geraniums growing from cracks in the wall

And sunshine reflecting from the stars on the floor