Standing here waiting for an Englishman. Standing here and waiting. It never really matters why. Waiting is the same.
One who sleeps. It was a strange meeting. One who was only ever seen in leaving. A shape disappears into the dark, sparing half a smile and a parting glance. One who sleeps. Here finally by virtue of not being anywhere else. Who can stand here alone alone and fully understand butstill feel a pain in all that. Understanding without acceptance. Pain without reasons. Once again the insidious self-victimisation steps out from the shadows to engulf you. Do we all do that as powerfully. Is it true of everybody? So why one who sleeps. It seems to be in the way. The roll of drums lulls you away. A salt cellar stands abandoned on a kitchen counter. White topped and perforated. A salkt cellkar, abandoned. Standing here incongruously. A white salt cellar. One who sleeps. White and perforated. Peforated by time. Alone and white. Formica table tops. White plastic chairs. A white salt cellar stands alone. A salt cellar like a person. Standing against the passive stone walls. Happening by default. And the sun shines like profits on the cities of the north. But not here. You are here. You are the salt cellar. You are asleep. On the top of the table is the top of the table but underneath it is underneath. They are not the same because they have been separated by words and economic craftsmanship. All the colours of the rainbow fall dully on the floor combining to be nothing. Nothing more than nothing. A space that rotates. Confuses itself into nothing. Confuses itself into quiet submission. The endless change of changelessness creeps up on you unawares and suddenly your head is red for a moment. The shy smile becomes a leer. Just you and me and your self-pity. I am sorry if I disturbed it and stopped you enjoying it fully. I wonder how people see me in the same space at the same time. You have come out because you want to talk but you do not want to talk. Not if you pay the price for speech. I was there before. Remember. It was before I found it all patronising. So you can talk and walk away. You can talk and smile. You handle it as you like. It's not that I don't care it's that I don't wish to make your decisions. I want no part of it even if I play a part.
So if I see a salt cellar and that is a form of understanding then that is how it is. Remember the glass jar containing a single grain of sand? That is how it seems. Cutting through the uncoloured lights. Seeing more or less of what is presented. A view from a hidden window. Four bottles of tonic water are passed through a small window like a cow's udder. It can vbe very small. It can be as small as the movement of a knee. That is all. So when the sun shines he sun shines the sun and when the sun doesn't shine the sun doesn't shine the sun. It is more or less not what it usually seems. Boiling clouds of vapour are still not enough to make coffee with. There is no difference. You can read your magazines and I will show you paradise in therm, if the photography is up to it. Read me the serialised Bible, the Orthodox version has been repeated too often for anybody to hear it.
Lighting a white candle with the tip of a biro. I light the first one for you. The second one for me. The third will not light. It is suffering from repetition. The replacement of truth with expectation. Not the first time. Not the second time, but the third time. The salt cellar mattered because it was disregarded, not in spite of being disregarded. If there was time it would still be there but there isn't. It will be gone by now. It will have been replaced by a spoace full of other things. It will have become tidy and conformist. It will have fitted into a less honest pattern where it is hidden by the trees. Will all the other people do the sasme I wonder. Will you perhaps this day will soon be over. Oh yes oh yes point the finger now the watchdog is on shore leave. I have a word for you but you haven't yet got a space for it. It would bounce off you like a loaf of wholemeal bread. I am not afraid. You are not afraid. I have nothing to fear. You have nothing to fear. We have nothing to fear. I was expecting this.
Ho ho ho destruction I await you. You want a dividing line and there isn't one.