TRUMPETS OF JERICHO

let your thoughts drift by like clouds they say

i try it

legs crossed 
sciatic nerve 
screams in my thigh
palms open 
and 
lids lazy letting little light in

i let my thoughts drift by like clouds
and 
concentrate on my thin breath
cool then warm

but then

i shit you not

my thoughts start turning up in sports cars and on motorbikes
and
aim
straight between my eyes

quietly amazed i urge them to drift
drift by like clouds thoughts! i think

they escalate to vintage fighter planes 
a Stuka!  then four!  sirens screaming

piloted by 
war and money and girls and existentialism

i get up 
breathing heavy and alarmed 
stretch my leg out
like a 
gammy
fool . . .