dust
there are times
when you should listen
to the world
I think
like
for instance
the time a meteorite came
through the roof and
through the ceiling and
landed on my desk
in the middle of
the papers and things
undone
to say it
smouldered would be
to become poetic
but it did
smoulder
and I was sitting there
at the time
about to pick up my pen
then I was
covered in dust
fragments of roof
deaf with surprise
and there it was
not too big
not peculiar
except for it not being
where it should be
or perhaps exactly
where it should be
as I say
a message
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