His dad went that
night
Neurological plasticity;
The superfluid ghost-busted
Priests and protests
populate the view
as light dies on the screen
and nurses panic
to save the dwindling waveform
Now we know everything
we can sit in stunned silence
as Michelangelo after Michelangelo
dive to their deaths off a hundred
replayed cliffs
I saw you in the Sallies shop:
Lacrimosa with the outrageous prints
draped like palettes
over your arm,
the unknown sunken boy
slightly back from his mother in silent protest
preparing for the dash of a man, away.
His quest: the shoot seeks the light
much like his dad went that night
And the searching sun
finds the crack
turns on the spherical earths’
chased horizons
Dischordant bungees umbilical him
twixt mum and dad
