The Dog-house

It is not in
This world
That we ascend
To dream
But
At the awakening
Of the innocent

Beginnings
Faithful only to itself
Are an anguished
Homecoming;
For
Caught between
The ecstasies
Of half-sight
And
Urban
Anybodyness,
Selves scurry towards
The twilight
Of Self-forgiveness
As lies are cruelly cancelled
On a day
And apologies
Stroll across pavements
In
Perpetuity.

Abuse – slaughter
Is an Elsewhere effigy,
A phantom that stalks
The news….
But, falling from among
Motionless straplines,
We are locked
In the dog-house
Where
We un-become;
Cancelling
All that we ever might be.