There may be no great award
and you may be the right design and
I’ve just been written by
a wise man. I’m on my verandah,
just like any other verandah and
if the scene was right the play
would go another act. The weather’s
bad, that’s by the way. Now from my blind
the street is like my bedroom, or
any other bedroom. You may be
in a state of grace, an ivory lampshade,
on the bus, a lovely metronome, over
the top, a colour, your heart goes crazy
at times. And all the time meeting in the blue
left hemisphere, or on trains, or the way gliding’s
nice and certain engines look after us.