by Tom Saer

Push your eyes until the logic’s gone and

then, in millions and millions of yards and scars of smiles in eyes

The destination singing to the cracks in mattresses

is on your right

I know I’m making deeper crevices when

walking while there’s everything but softness round my ears:

things like ‘the crater entrance memories’

and ‘ends of Aristophanes’

‘2004 – that was your pirate party.’

Why do that to me

the day before I go to university?

tidying my room won’t stop those one-way tears

they seem to come for no real reason

– thought I had a happy childhood

Behaving constellations,

mapping many of our stars together

only while our year of shooting universes lasts

in spinelessness

‘I’m from Ithaca!’

(Instead of exploration I have

lost too many fantasies while

crying all the other ones away)

All the silence in between recurs me saying in a dream

‘I love you’ and

‘Respect antiquities before you break the rivers

of my body’ … says me forgetting my indoctrination status, never mind.

Two forensic deaths?

Our house was hiding those from me

Forget it, didn’t hear correctly

Truth will mess you up

But I keep thinking

all the lonely noise  

will crack my hippocampus

‘All its combinations sprung apart! Initiate repair…’

But time to be awake and know that

opening new matrices is all that seems to happen

Finally I made my own achievement in

the aeroplane over the sea —

But mine was full of two swan hours

I had to see my fear to an end

But then again it’s

all just music on my own