ALL CLEAR AND POST

behind the glass
a woman in leather
runs from
alien and believable gods

move she says to herself move
she must answer the ringing phone
all our lives depend on it

this side of the glass
my unopened post sits there 
like a wrapped gift
would
sit
there - blunt and solid
with something of the mistake about it

( i had been compulsive and unthinking
  i was like hank 
  behind the glass 
  shot
  and 
  recovering
  buying minerals in bed from ebay
  in the night time tv gloop and glow )

the packages - they are like paper rocks 
strange samples on the kitchen tablecloth

a weird geology they demand attention

there could be ANYTHING inside couldnt there ?
and ignoring my knowledge
i 
savour
this 
manufactured mystery
for  l o n g  moments
sipping coffee number one

and the time ran then
it steamrolled over cold fear and the wired dread 
of these 
          falling / failing
                            faux
                              empire
                                 days
and over noons stagnation 
and all its attendant nothings
and i heard a tactile tick tock
and i felt a small vroooom
like a machine had started up
behind the days flat scenery
and the nameless Effort
    the orphan Art
    i
    had
squeezed out  bled out
forced and coaxed out

    ( the writingslob emitted curdle again )

    well now it Shone Easily - had no Hard Questions

and the day felt like a day then
an easy marker  a nice place
instead of another unsane blur
where only the edges make sense
like
crisp green leaves eaten into skeletons
by the long gone beasts of dawn

and when the cat steps up onto the bed
it is with a perfect sense of things

and shadows pass by the window
like of course they can and should

shadows of harmless other people
doing harmless other people things

and 
i 
feel
like
i
won an award - i can hear doves too
their repeating coo
like an All Clear siren today

the woman behind the glass
picks up the ringing phone

and she knows theres no rainbow 
you can see it in her eyes

and 
her
outstretched hand on the callbox window
is
a flat No  a spread Stop
in 
defiance

at circumstance 
at authoritarian retaliation
at
the
big
black
truck
running
her down . . .

the corner at wells and lake from matrix.wikia.com