• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 09
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Joe Wright

Joe Wright makes such extensive uses of flares in his films. You
Say, taking up your camera as we paddle through the stream
In front of Chatsworth House. Look at that puddle of light. I could
Dip my hands and fish it out. On the bus back to Chesterfield
Still enamoured by the glistens of millions of bullet-holes in
The foliage of the tree-leaves, your ear turns its deaf head to
Anything I have to say. Right index finger alights on the button
And clicks a smile that gently parts itself upon your face.
But standing on top of Calton Hill, When the whole city
stands upside-down underneath our soles, I see your arms
Drop down pierced by the painful ordnance tearing through
The heavy walls of upcoming storm that is your mind,
Your string of subconsciousness, your eye-strings, that is
For the moment Your everything.