- Vol. 03
- Chapter 11
Image by Bruce Connew
Concussion
I am up here in empty landpecking at the edges of a blind hill
blunted by snow.
The moon and stars are thrown
from my horse at a canter.
It seems there is no sky.
There is a chandelier inside my eye,
did Picasso have a detached retina ?
The horse takes centre stage in Guernica.