As published in Volume 8, NO 4, Dec. 2011
PRECIPITATION (THE PAVEMENTS ARE ABOUT TO BURST)
The pavements are about to burst
Plants made of arms and legs,
roots of citrus.
[Now that you bloom, you look so pretty]
The odour of spring erupts
a projected volcano,
two dimensional, colourless, yet vibrant and hazardous.
A forge of
A breath escaping isolation,
no longer needed,
an imaginary cloak of invisibility burning with the flag.
Now it is time to expose,
terrifying yet rejuvenating shouts.
I warn you,
the streets are about to fall like the rain
And when time stops droplets of mortar will precipitate.
Eternal And we will
age against it or with it
In us for ever
carved a weight of liberation
carried either with pride or