Poems by Inchiki


cloud chamber

flagging and empty
the carousel passes
a recurrent sadness

the playhouse
where children danced
has blank windows

he stands there
outside his reflection
holding its hat

only now he notices her
in the sunshine
that she left behind

he has awoken
finally in the moment
when she departed

like a wisp of vapour
strung around the muons
and leptons of memory

arcing delicately
to the floor
of the cloud chamber

the trail of tears
as fine as spiderweb
falling from the stars

the masculine mind
it grasps at particles
long after they have gone

tracing the rays
describing everything
touching nothing

the missed kisses
their kelvin number
noted, quantitised


Mind Spool  2014