the dust in the sunlight
the glint of a thought
almost, not quite, caught
the fumes forming slow
floating question marks
or grey long-fingered hands
the fat cigarette
turns red at the tip
the frail paper burns
and time twists back
like a taper’s wick,
the air rich and acrid
this hazy secular incense
is crazy, pagan, sacred:
a consolation, of sorts
Mark Valentine
Painting: Peter Blake
Note
‘Incense of Gauloises’ is a phrase from
‘Fêtes Nationales & Zazie in the London Underground’
by Veronica Forrest-Thomson
.