The comet

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Comet
circa 1984
A splash of colour
explosions
once more
the triumph of the nights sky
Orange and lit
Were glued
in no motion
in awe of it
Slow motion
meets no motion
whats this commotion
Of life
in scribbles
vomit on page
babies climb
into riddles
You were the giant
that swallowed the moon
I was the postcard
arriving here soon
No fountain pen
But then
I lend my splintered
eardrums
to the promise
of your pain
I wash the corns
of stubbed feet
Gloss of metal
rain
Balm you in
oil
Once toxic
to my trembling hands
The comet
circa 1984
I've never seen
a sight like
this before.

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