Au bord de lac

Oliver Jones 19 November 2018

Au bord de lac


has anyone been so


with so much all around


Shimmering, sweltering, sodden

Encircled and entranced by entities imperceptible in record

Encumbered, for


The iridescence you will see is manufactured


I bade my dummy forge it from bitten silicone crackling inaudibly in the depths of ubiquitous grace


And it is better than the truth



with so much all around


And we were subsumed in hazy blue

Tried to blot it in vain with the darkest tints


And I love them and I tried not to be


with so much all around


So much that was fair and shimmered in a haze that I hated

An immensity hung draped on our shoulders

A cloak of transparency

A cloak that was in all things, a mist or miasma, washed-out blue


And I saw green pillars tunnelling into the depths

And I saw great swathes and mountains emerald

And I saw verdant legions milling in the anti-sky

And I thought them strong


But I saw mine own hands in their false grandeur


And I saw peaks so distant and noble that mists as broad as eons blocked them from view

And I saw their roots stretch upwards and claw achingly at the expanse

And I saw the cavernous hordes of white in their eternal processions

And I thought it beautiful


But they were artifice


Of Gaia’s own silicon