Making my merry way back to Leeds after a lovely time in Bristol (which I do miss). Obviously I am on the glamorous Megabus – and am sat just behind the hand (see picture) of its jolly/sinister/jolly sinister blue and yellow mascot, branded on its side…Is it a smile or a smirk, Mr Megabus?
Sometimes you have to keep yourself occupied on a five hour journey and I thought I would use the image of being sort of ‘in’ a hand for some writing stimulus. Also, a repeated refrain can be rather fun to work with, pushing you to view one thing in many ways…
I Am Sat Behind His Hand
I am sat behind his hand and it is translucent, ghostly.
I am sat behind his hand which I have crossed with minimal silver.
I am sat behind his hand and his fingers frond from my head: a cockerel.
I am sat behind his hand and the landscape flees his grip.
I am sat behind his hand while he grabs at the pylons, pulls at the sun.
I am sat behind his hand so my face, these lines, are his palm’s fortune.
I am sat behind his hand, resting my head on his thumb.
I am sat behind his hand so he pixelates the dusk.
I am sat behind his hand as he ghosts above the M5.
I am sat behind his hand pulling pictures from between his sausage digits.
I am sat behind his hand snacking and about to be snacked.
I am sat behind his hand to be placed in his pocket, a pen.
I am sat behind his hand strapped in, ticking round his wrist, keeping watch.
I am sat behind his hand: Tom Thumb, emerging from a sleeve.
I am sat behind his hand and his branching fingers ruffle the leaves.
Megapoetry? Perhaps not – but at least I’m not playing loud music through my phone…
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