Demon Wind

Waggety clock rattles bony seasons

circles the sun

half an eye on the moon

Cones open and close an eye

to trouble

configured or dispelled,

as other planets

set out their dioramas

The weathers of fortune blow through clenched cogs

a known circumstance -

if not a certified outcome

Science can’t cope

it can’t predict - no-one said anyone could

The art of ‘if’ twitches

in the enquirer’s heart

Demons frolic after me

I hope they don’t believe

it’s all some kind of jape

Or that they’re trying to fool me

into thinking they’re playful chums…

I am the battle-knocked corrosive blade

the nuns warned them about

A thousand songs have shaken my harp

into a sympathetic muse:

A vibration emitted

when dust clouds are drawn

by gravity

Jagged black fragments

of petrol feather

suck the blue out of the sky

Caw thorn calls crack and creep

a flesh-crawl fear

Crops heave with dry lies

caught in the craw

From tree to tree to castlement

and cracked cupola,

cathode dark skies

reflect raven rays

fired from fearful minds

Jesus, pagan, abused, misunderstood

fiddles with a leather thong

as we talk and amble

while others can only

look on

This ain’t no blues

no gold inscribed vanity

I examine a little finger before I speak…

Then change my mind

(Waggety Wall Clock - a clock made entirely from wood, including the mechanism)