‘At the Moment, Nick Carraway’

A sigh becoming a song
Just let itself out of my mangled mind
And it floated bored and curious through sound itself                                  Caressing all new available experience
Of presidents, pianos and misery,
Bereaved as it was of the chance for utter promiscuity                                           Like that of those unnameable friends who’ve since                                   Returned into brassy being like brilliant gangsters                                          Enjoying every single compromised instance
Of hydraulic sublimity, the way Ian Curtis danced,                                                  Then come crying to no-one at all in need of answers                                Because who could phrase this question?
I just know I was There
As the girl and the boy, in fact
as every possible animation
of similar circumstances
And really more than just in spirit;
As if the hereafter were nothing but
An arrival at a predestined and general lust
that I always already embodied in the first place.

(09/11/2015)