something
has
forced
the
clouds to march
i feel their PRESSURE
their ordered INTENTION
from
down
on
the
patios timelock of 10.15 AM
my
neck bent in wonder
they
resemble
perhaps
a long grey-stained underside
of
a supermarket checkout conveyor
rolling
over
an
unresting earth sluggish with
ghosts ?
or
with
field dust
or
attack smoke
or
just
more domestic kettle steam
from schoolphysics.co.uk
