That culinary
dimension of
sense-datum,
and deflection is a kind
of alternative reality, as if perception
can be controlled by this:
slice and
dice to get to the
apparent truth.
Is this
the quintessence of
poetic bathos?
Light
Slightly
Deceiving.
If colours can confuse
with such ease, hanging flags is an
act of treachery.
A viral
variant of
expectation;
royal blue
in the silky coax
of consumerism;
chouriço fermented
in the colour of twelve bars
lamenting.
How the horticulturalist
is in lockdown dreams within the
most domestic of moments.
Mike Ferguson
Art Rupert Loydell