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My satellites - David Annwn Jones

My satellites


As we grow, our changing dreams and memories orbit around us –

we carry with us an invisible universe. Genevieve Scott

Dream-debris

and prayer-dust

at the circumference


a constant scattering

of alternate lives


the wrecked archipelago

of Dante’s inferno

going round and round


a Sputnik

playing ‘Telstar’

and endless Sixties

hits


postcards from Martians

who never made it


a planet turned inside-

out like a Möbius strip

all core and surface

forever


all hopes and fears of all the years

are met in thee


Solaris

full of mirrors reflecting

you reader now as you look

in at the words

of it


Mary had a little lamb

who made thee?


asteroid asteroid

diminutive


an explanation for the

ending of 2001

A Space Odessey


an expanding

radio wave

searching for

alien poetry


throbbing intergalactic

thunder of

Hendrix’s ‘Voodoo’


the obliterated deserted

astro-turfed golf-complex

intended

for offshore traders


a roomful of plastic bags

filled with seawater


Little Sir Echocardiogram

going wooomph wooomph

Hello Hello

green and yellow lightning

showing the blood-flow


a childhood


chip-shop

complete in every detail

down to enormous

salt cellars with grains

of crystal

in clouds around them


a dismantling

Dali exhibition

goddammit even here


esoteric telegrams


open ends of parentheses


to boldly go badly-

split infinitives


the Marie Celeste

spelt backwards


Rag, Tag and Bobtail


a deflated blimp


a piano as onomatopoeia


the spindle or whorl of Er


snowflake obsidian

a lake of snow


an intimation shivering from light-years

ago


haiku without

syllables


asters of risk


haloes of light where people were.


Recurring


recurring


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