outsideinroads

Life games, music, magic and all the rest. Adventures of the fringe of the fringe amongst the.. "People's Republic of Brighton and Hove"

unpack

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You can feel the focus make it worse

the explanation, definition

repetition. Panicked eyes a

clarion call

to urgent unpacking, but where? No space.

You’d better get a

mat down, open some

time loops. This

could

take

centuries.

 

Hop, skip, jump

tip-toed stardancer, soft

a slow trudge

to the station

won’t save you. She never

shows her face, not

to you, not to anyone.

That isn’t part of the game.

Don’t sweat it, sweaty.

 

It’s Halloween, Samhain, so

many spirals travelled

open-veiled, too many

for such

not to disappear

at these times, a blessed

curse, this year found

many ancestors, too. Last year

you were in the process,

you didn’t dare speak it,

last year was a different thing

entirely, with scope to research,

and you forgot to light the fire.

Throughout life

the repetition intensifies,

so many loops.

You’ve never been here.

 

This time, an o p e n i n g ,

mucky pupped with

ghouls and white noise

blankets. Follow the star, remembering

how to dance light-footed, shed,

discard, unguarded, fearless.

Space can still be made for this,

in these worldly times of gathering

darkness,

and it must.

The transformation exists,

it is underneath. Its time is now.

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