The High Jump
the high Jump
Over the bay, I saw a rainbow dripping colours
into the turquoise water.
Nothing can be that beautiful I have seen it all
Jumped from the balcony but the terrace underneath
ours was bigger.
Nothing was broken the flat was empty except
for a Picasso painting and one by a man called Larsen,
concluded the people who lived there were Norwegian
I walked up the steps to my flat, let myself in
the rainbow was gone but on the surface of the water
I saw spilt diesel oil that often has a rainbow
colour but lacks beauty.
Where have you been, she said.
Nowhere really just jumping about a bit.
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