I slept for days
my hand in the radiator
my head out the window
there is a cannon-hole
in my chest
I don’t know what to do with it –
keep small birds in it?
plant flowers in it,
mow the lawns on the fringes?
I think I will charge small children
50p to look through it
and tell me what’s on the other side
Driving through a night haze along King’s Way
I emerged into chaos as profiteroles of flame
Puffed themselves, hissing, to flank my car
Heat settling on my knee like a stray cat.
Shattered into the present, I watched my rearview mirror
As golden light licked the casino and bloomed in the river
And I thought how stunning Dresden must have looked
As it burned.