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Sport 2: Autumn 1989

Umbilicus Jump

Umbilicus Jump

citrus blooms
the baby dances naked to the human eye
peering in making slow sense of sound pictures
the baby is good at already
if you look at it like that like sonar like listening in
rolling thunder eight to the bar
to rainy Saturday duets a camera finale
flip and two soles waggle at you from up there
up? down? the music
rolIs walks gimps falls apart laughing starts over
pelagikos the contact improves
what pictures are the voices making now?

a baby fell out of the Listener last night
also sweet-lipped handcoloured the way they are
pick me up I am yours
I left her on the mantelpiece in a (handblown) glass bowl
there you are pretty one I thought
but she haunts me noiselessly all over the house
eyes wide and china blue
what shall I say to this picture of bliss? citrus blooms
the luck is good light and high resolution

my own
is noisy cells dividing snap crackle pop kicking off the day
with expansive bids at the limits
the surprising things that get into this world and find out afterwards
what they eat
messy breakfasts of self-pouring yoghurt
page 36 the small pig in the good soft mud retelling his comforts
soliloquy turned pas de deux in the crowded bed
itself an attempt at containment
citrus blooms jumps along the blood in glassfuls
feeding the baby

you speak the lines from given points
where you are is what you see moving towards the sound
of pictures warming by assocation
piano-sized grapefruit for the umbilicus jump
surprising noisy things
that project mean growth roll in waves beyond the human ear
sifting the construction now as light with a chance
to hold the picture
see the lines locate traverse compute the given
but the gift has flipped or flown in the waves a dozen times
since you caught its measure
louder and louder it blooms this heart flower