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. The cement A forge of ideas A breath escaping isolation, no longer needed, gratuitous, 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. Equiaxed Solid Eternal And we will age against it or with it In us for ever carved a weight of liberation carried either with pride or shame.