Tag Archives: tell-tale



‘Trailing shock’ (manipulated shadowgraph: supersonic bullet)

An impolite smattering of applause
Marks Barry Buddon’s most recent rehearsal.
So many rounds rapid sound surprisingly
Rounded. A lustily ripping rolling wave.

The unseen squad fires and resounds,
Oddly as a remembered sail spilling wind,
But cutting it far too close now,
We’re almost caught in irons.

Under the Tay’s sequinned shift,
Two hundred summer dolphins
Whistle ultrasonic, torpedoing
Scaled echoes for three squares.

While above the armoured submarine jetsam
Stashed in Tentsmuir’s sands,
Tales tell on a spittal-white sling of sail.
Time to come about.


lucidaAn electronic pulse indicates
Life is supported, if uncheered. Her eyes are taped,
While field boundaries are traced and recorded.
Is there anybody there?

Fish, dog, monkey, driving the car.
Consciousness is scored on a sliding scale.
Daydreaming, life drawing, man, woman, machine,
A target only in transition. Like walking, a lifelong fall.

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