Jiggery Pokery

[Jig]

<sub>Lines
I know circles.
There are formulae and there are rules
But radii and signs, Archimedes and pi -
All baffled. Circles have been smashed,
Now dragged up against the banks of rationality
Post-mortem. After the fact.
The circles, once intact, have been ruptured:
Maths does not apply
And there is no principle or guide
For the worst kind of witchcraft that
Turns a circle into a line.

I know there’s just one place to be,
But spin the globe, just for me.
I’ll watch the poles shift as the axis thins,
Countries drift and islands sink,
Physics binned, spirals win
And orbit, itself,
Collapses,
Nothing more than a theory.</sub>

11/5/16

<sub>Circles
There’s a globe in my room.
Spin it, and wave goodbye to Europe, Asia
As they go, and dive back into the sea.
Little circles grip the world,
Only imaginary, of course;
They’re slimmer than my hips.

Me?
I’m tipping on the edge of a telephone.
Maybe they’ll know.
Hello, you know who it is. Any news?
Nothing to report.

This time if I spin the globe hard,
It’ll take you with it.
Throw you back into the sea somewhere warm
And still in sight,
But out of reach
So no tube can feed you
And maybe you’ll drown first.</sub>

18/4/12

---

Had to put these somewhere.

[Jig]

<sub>Out

In my haste I forgot the date and left the
lights dimly on. Since my appetite
was shot, you will find me out to lunch,
so nobody’s at home and it’s better not
to go there, staring through the windows
and rattling at the doors; I’d gotten somewhat
bored and thought I ought to get some sun.
I think I wrote a note to whomever was concerned,
suggesting that they turn around and just join me out for lunch.
There is no point in knocking now the door’s been firmly locked behind me
on my way to lunch to escape that dreaded clock.
I knew the lights were on from the moment I was gone,
but such was my haste for lunch I just didn't turn them off and if you want to leave
a message, after the tone, I might hear it once I’m back from lunch and someone’s
finally at home. My fingers are sick of letters so post-lunch I’ll use some knives to pry
the paper from the contents and throw them on the fire. The house is really empty
so I thought I’d save you time because there is no use in trying while I’m out to bloody lunch.
If you want to come then you absolutely should
but enough about the lights; I could have left them on for fun
since I won’t be touching blues and I’m not going near the blacks
and even if it bruises I will beat the darkness back with bulbs if I have to
and a note on the door: Currently I’m out to lunch, might be back at four.</sub>

16/5/16

[Jig]

<sub>Across

Let me propose a deal across the veil.
I can’t say that I wish to call you back,
my stomach wracked with knots,
your stomach wracked with pain,
but there’s something left to be gained,
generation-proofed, cardboard-sealed
so I can see the years beyond memory
and the puncture of a compass.

Let’s trade. Time can be undone,
rent asunder like the circles I
once knew. In lieu of words, there is
blood, and we would sign a contract
in duplicate, your time for mine,
neither being on the other’s side but
circumstance protects that which it has
claimed.

Words that you disowned:
Could.
Would.
Should.
We have signed together in our blood,
and those words need not apply.</sub>

19/7/16