sucked in greedily, babbled and chewed

but never returned. Outside,

the world is blurred, a scrim

of white noise. In your head, words

take wing, flocks of tiny birds

lighting out for home.

Back in the flat, you unwind

your scarf. Your sons watch you,

unafraid.

Imbolc

The sky is pewter, rain-scumbled:

unreadable. This long winter we have

sailed blind, vainly scried a world mute,

unsouled -

      only now, whispers rise

to windward as the skies begin

to speak, the wheel shifting to

the year's set. New life kicks

between our ribs. We pray Brigid

bring us safe to berth.

1.

Fetch a car.

Do not sell your furniture.

Drive him to the station.

2.

There were not enough chairs for us in the room.

They have shut all the doors and windows.

There is nothing left.

3.

Allow me to help you.

Take off your gloves.

Don't close the door.

4.

Which were our rooms?

What did you drink?

Why do you write so much?

5.

Please examine this signature.

Lock up the papers.

Dress yourself!

6.

Did you show him the pictures?

What did he answer you?

Was he not ashamed to ask you for it?

7.

Why do you let your pipe go out continually?

To whom did you write just now?

To whom did you speak?

8.

It happened while you were resting.

I let the telephone ring for at least five minutes, but the 

operator told me there was no reply.

It has not succeeded this time.

9.

You have offended your friend.

We were greatly mistaken in him.

You must pay what he demands.

10.

Light the gas.

Don't talk so much!

Don't believe them; it is not true.

11.

We should greatly prefer to begin earlier and leave earlier.

One can find time for everything, if one plans things 

properly.

But the gentleman who distributes the letters does not 

come before ten.

12.

I shall wear my overcoat.

We shall read a little.

Then I shall talk about the weather.

13.

Who has torn the paper?

Who fell asleep?

Who has my knife?

14.

It will rain soon.

I am putting my warmest things on.

These hats are very much worn just now.

15.

Your friend is terribly nervous.

Has he not to leave at twelve o'clock?

What is he?

16.

She is always speaking of it.

If I remember rightly, he was not present.

I believe his name is B—.

17.

He is not dying yet.

Tomorrow at this time you will be far away.

You ought to have done it long ago.

18.

What town is this?

Who is that lady?

Do you know how it ends?

Corpus albicans

Like wax dripped onto cotton,

maybe: pooled and sclerosing

from edge to centre until

congealed, immobile trace -

mere aftermath. How is it

you feel nothing, can track with

no deictic pain this rupture

and scarring, nor direct the

blind reworking of this picture

plane, hope's repeated and

unreasoning expression

of itself, this white body,

vital gesture become calque?

of October, watching the tide

reach its decision. I carry

merely yesterday's meanings but

you are already translated,

turned towards the bright months while I

collect October's cockleshells,

curetted cleanly by the sea.

breech birth, a baffling

of waters. Anxiety

of the unconfessed, tapping

the glass, listening for

tiny shifts, the crackings

of fault-lines, presaging

thaw.

The city you live in is blue

and bright in my mind, with sea breezes

and views of mountains, a pretty

lake with wooden piers, and straight streets

with neat white houses leading

down to a bay with flags flying

and blue water, and everyone

confident and everything

different; but how do you come to

be in this picture, proud first-time

father pushing your son in his

smart new stroller down the street of

neat white houses to show him the

ocean, kneeling to point out the

white sails, Pacific blue, bright sun

of a city I have never

seen, at the furthest edge of a

merely imagined continent?