My ears grow keener in silence; land crabs clatter among wahoo, sailfish, boobies and noddies. Man made this garden, not God. No snakes, for adders would eat eggs and we’d eradicate them as swiftly as we have our other mistakes: feral cats, ship rats. We emptied out our bags of roots and seeds choosing orange blooms, twisted branches and pine aroma suggesting amorous evenings.
An island made new for beauty: creatures are born to touch. An island made new for truth: people must tell the stars what goes on in their hearts. Our species are into communication. We’ve poised dishes to pick up the tiny friends in the stratosphere.
In this low key jungle voices ring better. Is that you vibrating? I clamber among the tight-lipped rocks praising their sienna black-brown, the designer moss, cushion-tussocks, creepy carpets: our Pacific theatre. Green curtains roll back to announce the court of Ascension.
The fourth of four poems for a project called CAIRO COMPRESSION. The first two are going to be published by E:ratio in their next edition.
The EP is published on Linear Obsessional, these are the accompanying poems. They have not been published before as poems, only as songs and as sleeve notes – I think it’s time they popped into the poetry world as well, but I’m sure only the ‘experimental’ call it what you will, magazines will embrace them.