“And what are you?” asked the all-seeing sightless beast
bearing me on its back through vast seascapes,
going somewhere, nowhere, ceaseless as droning plane or priest.
“Are you one of the great lizards? Or the little apes?
The winged skylords? The many-tentacled?
An ape-displacing metal monster?”
“Of those,” I said, “ ‘Ape’ has to be my answer.”

“I talk with all of you,” it said, “you’re all identical.
You are all struggling up, and lying back and down,
and all are living with some lilac crown
on heads and clothed with your purple gown
while all your world degrades to brown.
This you all do, will always do, have always done,
always, while seas seem to run,
and while I seem to carry you with seeming motion.”

“What is this sea?” I asked. “Time, that we’re moving through?”
“Why not?” it said. “There is no Time, nor Ocean.
All is more dream than stream;
I am not as I seem
and nor are you.”

*****

I’m very happy to have this in the latest edition of Cerasus – “now published and currently available to buy at a special discounted price:

In the UK: CERASUS Poetry Magazine # 6: Amazon.co.uk: Wilks, John: 9798160784458: Books

In the USA: CERASUS Poetry Magazine # 6: Wilks, John: 9798160784458: Amazon.com: Books

(For other countries, click on a link then change the .co.uk or .com in the address bar as appropriate.)”

Thanks, John Wilks.