The Window
woodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwood
io oo
n o o w
d d w i
o w o n
w o o d
i o d o
n d w w
d w o i
o o o n
w o d d
i d w o
n w wind o w
d o o i
o o d n
w d w d
i w o o
n d w w
d o o i
o o on
woodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwood
dwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodw
odwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwo
o o on
woodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwood
dwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodw
odwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwoodwo
- Derek Mahon
Airports #3
How is it possible, I wonder
for the massless clouds to carry
this silver rocket poisoning the
sky with anxious gases,
to carry this...
toxic creation through the infinite
beauties of nature, at its most
mysterious?
Everything below are small
legos, built into your dream and
drowning in ominous
winds, concealing the way that
nature's greatest mistakes like
to pretend.
The answers
float in the air and they are
not anxious and restless, like
the rest.
They hear the cries and shake try to
overcome all the circulating lies
littering the air to make nature what he
is not.
we stay afloat in her arms and up here,
I think i might be safe.
and then the cabin compartments begin
to shake, the momentary bond i had with you
and silent reassurance
begins to break.
a gradual decent into the concrete ground;
the world...as it
is not. farther and farther away from light
we pound into the ground of reality
until we all break: and until the air can no longer
compensate ...
for the volatile changes in
cabin pressure, in all the haunting pressures...
and all the season changes
in all the seasons you share
the season where the wind reminds me to
forget to care.
and we will-
we will all break. the one thing
we could not physically manipulate.
and I hate the way i still for look for you
when i land in terminal two.
-MM
via weheartit, clinic, webehindtheears, nicole anne robbins
