was, like so much else, embedded
in a long lost past. Tell me if you’ve heard
this before; it’s a story that’s certainly
done the rounds. My Ellie knows it
off by heart although she has grown
to be heartless in the modern style.

Of the angles it held all that can be said
is that each was a secret turned on its head
as a circus tent enthrals the child. And then
when it was time to collapse to the ground
and be up and gone it upped and went
as if it had never been a portal, an abandoned
entrance to the cinema of the soul.

And the people who gather around me
now to listen to what I say will not be here
tomorrow. They will be at their workstations
and in the coffee shops but leaving no marks
or footprints. Yes, this is where we live
but it’s not really where we live because
this is not what you can truly call living.


© Martin Stannard, 2017
Photo Nick Victor.

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