I am a pigeon.
I am a dormouse.
I am a driving licence,
tissue paper, crowbar.
I am the tension in
your neck, snow drift,
laughter, what the heck
I am a Wyandotte,
laptop, red fox.
I am two coffee stains
on a yellow table cloth.
I am leather, plastic, stroganoff.
I am beer, I am
neither there nor here, but both.
I am Schrodinger’s cat,
tea-cup, apple, pipistrelle bat.
I am the swollen dawn.
I am a smelly fart,
I am a fake yawn
that is infectious, catches on,
roving across the crackling grass
of late summer lawns.
I am a late arrival.
I am the early bird
and the worm, I am “Watch out!”
I am the ornate urn.
I am a dollop of sun cream.
I am a swig of whiskey.
I am the bubbles in your soda
I am tango, foxtrot,
Motorola. I am a call
across a thousand miles,
I am under sea cable
and microwaves. I am Jupiter,
Saturn, Macclesfield.
I am the scum in the turn
of the river, I am
the microfibres in the ocean,
I am the sanitiser and the lotion.
I am black mould.
I am Aphrodite.
I am the smallest thing
and the largest.
I am a cup of water
coffee, sweat and touch,
I am language
and I don’t say much.
I am automation, progress,
ash and dust. I am strobe light,
fig leaf, jungle rain, I am
powder, ice and rising pain.
I an relief, stolen traffic cone,
leftovers from a conglomerate
conference. I am oil rig, rubble,
injustice. I am Spring, Summer,
Autumn, Winter. I am bluebell,
gravy, porridge, sugar, salt.
I am tired.
I am tired.
I am whatever, I don’t care.
I am neither here nor there, but both.
I am a subscriber.