I remember
Touching my September toes
To the ripples
On your cool brisket.
I imagine
Sailors dancing
In a topless stadium
Littered with black bakelite telephones.
I search
For Straker’s porch
Between this void and that
By following shadows of Ritchie.
I believe
Forty times forty
War times war
(the empire solution)
Equals failed freedom.
Through our feelings
Pass ephemeral elementary particles
Making by curved traces that interact
Barely pausing.
David Savory
Vancouver
