divine overload
Iain Britton
the cowboy cameraman
shoots lemurs and bush babies
for a living / long-eared
bats hang by their jackets
their claws in dark figs
stripped down to robes
you’ve learnt
to soothe a love-torn body
a hot-paint job
smacks of transformation
the re-enactment
on a bald Golgotha / the day’s
sojourn in the park is
tangible
clammy
hours spent at cavernous sites
uplifted rocks
take turns at shattering the daylight
into wafer-thin valedictions
at targeting fresh fields
the warm stares of spring’s
long shadows
building their homes
i look down
on this love-torn soft toy
which implies
a lifetime in a day
the political beliefs
of assimilation and dispersal
i look down
on the road runner and coyote / down
on comic buffs
chomping at their heels
the animated cameraman alters the angle
you step through a paper wall
into the lightest of wind shifts /
this portrayal is all about
divine overload
and markets full of manna gatherers
thrusting out hands
for more sky
more parachutes
in rainbows
the competition is fierce
for the best vantage point
to shoot the breaking
birdspeak of an egg
the sound of your lips parting
your forefinger touching /
tributaries on your skin
run freely
soothingly
the sun’s oil
soaks in
a refurbishment of ideas
alerts the body / your perceptions
the crocuses emerging /
i work with you
on intimacies
stolen from Utopia
from olde English proverbs
we retreat inside
to the hospitality
of a clear-polished lens
unearthing love songs
from the south seas
*
i latch onto you
for this celestial fix
and like a boat
uploaded for a long voyage
we’re hoisted
through stained-glass apparitions
*
bats left behind
hang by their jackets
their ecstasy
is high up
grabbing
at figs
Iain Britton is online at the psychology of a river.
