An Identical Universe

Sodden in separate puddles
A head too damp to strike and a half that cannot hope to
And, as ever, where were we
When we needed us the most?

Watching the scoreboard when the goals went in,

Suspended above
Silent sea-floor,
Mutilated, separate, open-mouthed
Swallowing the serving of the tide
To regorge

Are we separate in
Mass-produced, containerised
Absolute space?
A perfect match

An identical universe shifted two miles east
Is indistinguishable,

© John Lowndes


About johnlowndes

Music and poetry. #wearepatchworkrattlebag
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