London, England

When I lived in solo-city

I spoke and listened to myself

I strung the words together

and the words sang back to me:

 

there was the roar of energies

of a city collapsing, relapsing,

and erecting the raw

 

new worlds and old worlds

and twitches of chills

of the cold of renewal and rebloom

 

there was the raspy breath

of masses chanting

and the twanging of occasional collaboration

 

the drumming of solitude beneath the base

and the whistle of loneliness on top

 

there was the ringing of inspirations

deliberating and liberating

and the rumble of disruption beneath

 

the steady shiver of steadiness, circular sounds of sadness

and the big sound of the big picture above

 

there were the clangs of attack,

the click-clack of fear

and recurring riffs of fruition and love

 

there was the strumming of visions,

the melding of hesitations

and loops of tenderness

fading-in, fading-out

and catching my clap

 

The song of solo-city surges

As I sift through the passion it has sucked into me.

from breathing for breadth (TSAR: 2005, 117)

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