FALLING

falling asleep in an armchair
lets the wind the words rise
labourers and dons despise
the odd the weird
use fuck the pope and formulas
to keep back feared
walk in light that’s dry and tight
and wonder why the million facts of sound and sight
won’t unite
for all their thousands of boxes of tricks
that add up the info and answer: nix
and get cheesed off because politics
always seems to end in opposites

and all the time a baby cries
saying feed me fill me I’ll devise
I’m warm and wet I’m form and light
but not the light that hits the skies
I shine in dark I shake surprise
I feed on snakes and advertise
through dreams and art and all that’s mad and terrifies
I’m here I fill but you fear you kill
for God’s sake reverse and sprinkle me spray
I shrink I shrivel every day
self-waste and wars are my screams and cries
that your minds torch out of me
your incinerating eyes