Midnight’s Height

In utter broken outage of the blackness
whitened silver
in the fullness of those rare
at almost for this bang on
Midnight’s height
we are thrown at the padlock of our fear
pushed face-first to front the primal build
are thrown off our beds and over chairs
to move through the glass-sprinkled air
of living rooms exploded in what primal Rage
minds will not enquire into yet.

Are thrown into walls and on our knees
looking for our keys our children
our devices like dogs on their lease
the Appliances

out of their sockets a community
of clouds performing strangely
looking on their handiwork
samsung sony panasonic
50 inch of sonic
faux divine creation-rights
shattered hd smartness
laying facedown praying so it looks

like I have the time to think
in the bone-cold terror of my death
appearing early time to think
of self and only him the I
my only eye of which the We
draws and holds essential authenticity

that was not enough we must escape
after we’d been threw about our rooms
in the Waking uninterpreted
in rodeo like movement
the Ocean had withdrawn and the dark
line obvious in moonlight
was in a common language
unnecessary to interpret.

I left my favourite didge and took the Mac
in the stuttered shaking darkness of the black
areas Interpretation falters
people hanging on inside their shoulders
the roads filled immediately with traffic
negotiating cracks and separations
disappeared between the sirens
wailing monotone unmodulated messages
the actual words within it insignificant.

And in our summer sleeping knickers
in headlamp and knucklebones
focused over steering wheels
hunting out a place to go
a narrative the Weave to stay