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Tuesday, August 14, 2007
as the fog rolls in
Ocean View Chalets Lunenberg, Nova Scotia
To the left:
Cabot Trail Nova Scotia
Cabot Trail in the fog
For more photos of Cape Breton see:
Cape Breton Island Hoppers Photos
Anyway here's a few lines of verse -
lines written on a porch at night in a seaside town
as the fog rolls in ( Lunenberg, Nova Scotia )
Kerouac comes out of the fog & mist
a ghost smoking a joint
offers me some
finally -
what suffering I think
to scratch out a few lines
stolen from the humming dynamo
which spins the universe -
cars pass along the low road
more pass on the higher road
red & blue lights along the horizon
disappear in the thick atlantic fog
which swallows all remaining lights
car headlights
the farmer arrives turning on the light
which floods out through the barn doors
releases the horses to wander around their corral
the big red horse moves towards the fence
eyes me wishing to speak to me
or just looking for a treat
or someone to stroke his head
a chinese flute is playing
such sad high fragile notes
as the fog rolls in
someone is teasing a tabla drum in the distance
as the fog rolls in from the grey atlantic
someone is strumming a sitar
as the fog rolls in
someone is playing a jig on a fiddle
as the fog rolls in
everything has its own theme music
from the fog rolling in
to the celestial bodies
rolling across the firmament -
an ancient voice in the distance bellows
an old god reawakening
rising out of the sea
of myths & dreams
turns into a prosaic electronic being
the fog rolls in stays for days
our world shrinks
the buzzing stars a delight
as if dying one by one
as the black curtain is drawn shut
the distant hills disappear
lights flicker on towers then fade
cars pass on the road
til the road is cloaked in the mist
horses wander around their corral
keeping me company
as they too dissolve
as the light from my porch is swallowed
sucked into the pitch blackness
as I sit smoking a cigarette at 3am
the smoke swirls & curls
as the darkness enfolds me -
take care,
GORD.
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