by Sean Haylock (February 2020)
The Tube Station, Cyril E. Power, 1932
The Fe Line
Seen from the right angle
A train has a weird carriage
Like an arched cat
Scuttling on protracted claws.
Recumbent Poet Follows Trail
Against the bubblegum blue of a summer sky,
A line of white dominoes falls
Or
The airconclave adjourns
With laser-guided fumata bianca
Or
A jet sprays its contrails
The way a can does whipped cream:
Wet floret upon wet floret.
Yes.
Those whitecaps, double file,
Chase themselves across a long enough plain
To let you land upon le mot juste.
Unlikely
I find I always want to add a third I to simile
As though, as tedious mystics insist,
Another were needed to really see
The wonders of the likeness-loaded world.
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Sean Haylock has a PhD in English from Flinders University. He lives in Adelaide with his wife and son.
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