JOYCE’S VOICE & BIRDSONG:
She greets me at the gates of Paradise. First into the morning
cubicle, I’m lavished with fresh black towels for a passion killer.
Undressed & exposed as the waters freeze. The sacred hook, rides
shotgun raises all my earthly possessions skywards & dry. When
everything else I need is provided, accompanied so unexpected by
such a smile, showering in cold water’s nothing.
The Angel Joyce ascends into heaven as I emerge, newborn & sweet
between the trees that set the scene for this weeks festivities.
A lake, whose sandy beaches arrived by lorry. Lorry trailers
parked in rows concealed, breathing diesel breath & rubber.
Smiling, happy knackered faces pause to shake my hand, dressed in
black & branded. Hands roughed hauling heavy metals, eternally
unseen, behind the scenes, un-named, unknown, without whom no party
happens tonight nor any other. Gratitude & dust for breakfast.
Listening to: Klaus Gesing // Björn Meyer // Samuel Rohre – ‘Amira‘