Les Rêves des Notre Ours #2 | Page 8

Songs for Ghosts - II

I never felt at home in London, its heavens

are full of tin cans

and model planes. The distinctions

don’t matter when you still

can’t count the stars, when the lunar calendar

is shattered.

With every passing day I watch

the sky stretch further from me, as if

being pulled by some giant Chimera.

Pangu grows and I

diminish.

This is how the hunter

becomes

the hunted.

Songs for Ghosts - III

Carrying fear aquatic

in my veins,

I howled beneath a moonless sky.

An ambulance broke down

nearby – like a rabid animal the silence

hunted the sirens.

I begged to be left at the foot

of Mount Tai, where my book could

change and grow. Huangdi rose

and the cosmos enveloped me,

for the first time I saw that the Chimera

was a Qilin.

The streets glistened with

dew-covered lotuses, bells chimed

in the distance

and I knew

I didn’t belong there –my ship

sank years ago.

by Aaron Kent - Twitter: @GodzillaKent - more info HERE