15 Feb

Elephant


Morning.

Sun-thrown.

Early.

I rattle your letterbox.

You emerge, yawning and fuzzy with self-neglect.

Your blinks are long : 

attempts to re-capture a dream 

or assessments of your readiness to waken.

I go and stand in the street.

The children feed me liquorice and sherbet.

They hug my legs 

and give me dandelion and burdock to drink.

The bright red door eases open and you descend 

like one of the Romanovs 

leaving the Livadia Palace at Yalta.

Or alighting from the Imperial Train.

The Imperial Train.


You ascend into the Gondola on my back.

(Did I mention I had a Gondola on my back?)

Sunlight

filters through the gauze.

Sunlight

is carved into wedges by the frame 

and fold upon fold of damask and calico,

the colour of milk and butter, 

blends with it's diluted yellowness.

You recline.

You are as light as light.

Softly buttressed by a festoon of cushions 

the colour of ivory.

Ivory.


Easing forward I overcome my inertia.

One knee, always the same knee, cracks as it is bent 

and I settle into an amble.

I hear the hiss of an atomiser 

and microscopic droplets of cinnamon and orange 

disperse into the static air.

I throw my nostrils back up to my crown 

and every stray particle 

is inhaled like nourishment.

Nourishment.


My steady trundle gets us to the outskirts 

of the weary sandstone town 

and we navigate nature's undulations.

Passing spire and steeple.

Passing inn and blacksmith.

Passing cottage and campsite.

Until the whole horizon is green.


A massive art-deco cube of thick mahogany bassoon

materialises into the drying air.

(Did I mention you played the bassoon?)

Your breath mingles with reed and pipework

and it resonates through me

and my Rhythm

becomes its Rhythm

becomes your Rhythm.

Jolts, jerks and spasms are regulated into evenness.

And you encase us in an ark

which glides with an even tempo

and swings.


I oscillate with mechanical precision

as regular as a pendulum

and an interval of time escapes.

An interval the length of two dreams.


At the sign of the Hairy Brown Cow

I check my heart.

I feel it thump inside my ribcage

Like Bonham's bass drum.

I fill my lungs to capacity,

gather spittle in the well of my mouth

and Snort.

Then I go.

Hitting the pace of a gallop in four strides;

I hear you whoop with delight;

thrown into the air like it's your Birthday

and you laugh and clap and scream.

I picture the earth rotating faster under my feet.

I am as powerful as Steam.

I feel like a Bulldozer

or a Deltic

or a Tank at the battle of Kursk

or Seabiscuit.

Seabiscuit.










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