Attic Room


The room of choice –
for Him.

As though – I’ve stepped from Earth
on – to another planet –
I’m but a couple of hours
from home.
The smells, the accents, the rolling – hills –
like ocean waves – the rolling – hills.

And this – this attic room with window
pointing – to the sky –
the drone of traffic far below.
I’m not allowed to see – the drone
of distant beings going
to distant places.

As though I’ve stepped from Earth –
into – His world – where words were written
and poems made …
Him, of course, the Him of English poe …
He fucks you up – they tried – he says they did.

It’s Him I speak of –