The Complete Meditations of Elma Toyah: Meditations #1
Delilah Dennett muses over dreams, time and the unutterable in the first poem of her collection

Shake the spine that shrieks with a
Million deaths of honour, you scathing
Beast blaming all the middle winds right through
My chest, whilst seconds reminisce.
In the afterflow
Of thought.
You could never live in the present,
But stir yourselves into alacrity,
Whilst I sit, boned and bared
Struck out in sweeps of desert flesh
Stuck in time’s rotating thought,
Wrinkles Lapping, showing the swim of lost seconds thread
Into bowelled earth and chiselled dirt
Dreams to fill a million spaces
But you could never reach
One of them.
Away, dust thoughts
With nothing to show for your meaning
No circuit to travel but the bodiless ghost
Whose bloods sinks in opal haunts.
Strapped in phosphenes migrating from one form to another
As I try myself, desperately, to be translatable in all
These invisible forms
And for people to books without words or utterances.
Be fooled by time’s weeping face
And my plea for lands more exotic than
my great ruin.
Away. Soon you shall be forgot for good.
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