My next poem was titled Extreme but I typed it into the computer at work and didn't send it to myself. Oops.
I'll keep this space for it.
Found it in Junk Mail!!!
Out there, there are walls within walls -
a great gulf, a chasm, myriad glass eyes
of office blocks, hotels watching day open out
like a grey butterfly, close without warning,
closing time being agreed upon by the gods
of cloud and Capricorn, the sun not allowed
a look-in. Air fills the chasm with water.
Out there, there are cliffs for scaling
if you can swing past so many
yellow eyes without tumbling
into the weather. You can look down
just to dare the day to climb up
climb in, steep you in cold darkness.
2 June 2010