just beyond the stars

I need to pass through another world to find you.

A refrain of panpipes somewhere in the non-logical distance I’m roaming

towards (don’t take that word literally).

What’s left to crucify in a cul-de-sac of tract-housing?

My neighborhood of injuries, both rendered and grieved,

each a spitting-image of the other, one to my right

one to my left – this is some kind of world I need to pierce –

how is it I can’t ache for you any easier?

The horizon is loess at the sandy scab of ocean,

(horizon is a close relative of tomorrow)

let the ground breathe beneath me.

Let time feel as a

dock weaves, on a lake, under wind, for one hot wet dizzy second.

I’ll play panpsychist for a stretch only to sell off my fortunes for you –

It’s all alive wherever you are

that’ll make millions.

I meant to say I’ll play panpipes for a stretch.

Sorry, this isn’t a world

where language cooperates. All the same,

music animates everything, in an Aeolian way.

Can you hear me?

And not my voice per-se but the pulse of footsteps at the edge of you

I have all over me whatever it is that’s just beyond the stars,

you can call it what you want,

let me in

.

Star Field in Black and White, BBC 2014, by Chema