isambard

Woken by the sticky hand of
morning, attacked in slumber
on this island-
-with a head like Vesuvius
at this…
…time of day the synchronised watches conspire,
electronic beeps beep
beeping throwing sleep
aside I realise
my glasses aren’t on
the room is underwater blurry eyed
last nights poisons, the usual suspects
are inside
but where are my glasses?

 

Ah, perched on the bridge of my nose,
a bridge Isambard Kingdom Brunel
would give his name to.

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