It’s time to go back to the studio
return the microphone
leave the stage
before it is too late
and the sun dissolves,
the dark turns the key
in the cell of sleep.
By the side of the sound
fluttering traces, glimmers of illumination
on a sandy shore, parallel to the light
to which sea turtles run.
Signals that the evolution of cells
requires the survival of a fresh program
within each radio impulse.
Let another station follow the end of this episode.
Let the chrysalis crack open
so earthworms may turn into music
and melody explode.
Let there be flight,
transparent colour,
for the fullness of time,
in the flicker of an eagle’s eye.
in the bite of a death adder
as if
a fragment of static
is about to cross the synapse of suspended wires.
Again, back to the studio.
From Bath to Cork with baby Grace 