Clive Culverhouse Poet Narrative

Hey Look At This, Said The Universe

so some wooden spoons and a potato masher
with a spaghetti spoon and some other utensils
being what they are every day, stoically on duty
crammed into the unremarkable utensil holder
but one particular day when they and the light
decided to converse secretly with the universe
over an unknown coffee among chatter and din
bereft of sticky fingers, cast a phoenix in flight
majestically across the kitchen wall, the meal
was several seconds later that magical evening

and by another incredible zing, a conspiring
of the universe and other distant table waited 
secret evening suppers, the bedroom pointed
to the lampshade upon a low lit ceiling behind
it became a robot warlord’s head ripped from
its body, circuitry dangling like vein and sinew
and then – hey look at this, said the universe
I wondered how many times the universe had
reached out but I was in too much of a hurry
and sleep was several seconds later that night

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