Alan Weadick

One Poem: Lights Out

Alan Weadick

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Words swarm

                        in the air

                                    above the rooftops

like a fog of tiny birds

                         kettling for heads,

                                      tips of tongues

parched throats

                         to alight upon

                                       in numbers that must

be finite but that are

                         in practice

                                       countless and therefore

apt to lodge, in or out

                         of the right order,

                                       in just a few more

mouths than they do

                         before being ushered out

                                       in a scream or a shout

to be tidily and promptly

                         forgotten.

                                       But instead they too

circle, wheel and bank,

                         massing just out

                                       of the sodium halo

of the alertly patrolling

                          consciousness

                                        with just a handful

leaving traces

                           in the inky inner ear

                                        before all are swept

away by a flutter

                           of eyelids.


Alan Weadick


Alan Weadick has had poems most recently published in Cyphers,  the Culture Matters anthology "Cry of the poor", The Stony Thursday Book and upcoming in Blackbox Manifold and Dreich. He lives in Dublin.