Green Screen Dream

This blog is the ends, not the means. A small poem for Saturday.

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Green Screen Dream

 

Black marble matted with midnight swirls. Suspended, shimmering 

Insubstantial, holographic

Plotted upon green screen. 

All that there was – Don’t wake me for pixels or continental shifts –

Puzzle me not for Putnam’s pickle 

Creating new idioms and the vanity of metaphysical rifts

Small tears in space

I don’t remember

Kissed sweet and twenty 

Squared by twenty twenties 

‘A grain of sand’ on fifty miles of poetic obsolescence

Love and forgetting 

Falling through a torus

and back to Brimsdown.

Back to the anthropocentric   

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