We turned left at Sebastopol
You were looking over your shoulder
Silk scarf fluttering in the breeze
I never learnt what you were looking at
The message ought to have been clear
Where we were heading in our dreaming
No stops through red lights automatic screaming
Today’s mess only another glimpse of yesterdays
So what was I feeling
Slowing to a crawl looking for some healing
For some normality, ours
Like a house on fire insane
A quick rush, a further scene
The blood stops seventeen seconds from zero
A depiction of our bodily conversations
And what then remains
Our juices metered
What are our defences, our leading story
Cannot possibly continue unscathed
Is this another departing
Only you know that this time
Words written February 2022. There were 2 poems. This one the idea was a couple driving out of Paris from the Boulevard de Sebastopol off to who knows trying to sort out their relationship problems, their dream. The other was inspired by Julia from Sevastopol, but it is a different story.
Song, could it be anything other than This mess were in by PJ Harvey and Thom Yorke.
Photo of Boulevard de Sebastopol from Wikimedia Commons.