Over there

Over there it makes sense
but in between it loses itself
in a harvest of dignity

the racing rabbit ready to tear out the throat
of the first hound that arrives
stops precipitously and positions
itself as if for a kiss

or that bundle of kindnesses dressed in
brittle silk washed in the lessons
of too many years spent waiting
for the right time too many

times hope was held as a reason
to continue with this arrogance
this trough of waste and for what
we wear our selves out for each other

and look good after bathroom hours
preparing ourselves, hiding our true odours
feeding each other dinner and then
having a few shots so we can
expose our inner idiot

and maybe even get laid
if we thought it out well enough
but then one of her fucking mobiles will
ring and all preparation is down the sink

Call across this vast divide
voices from the cooling night
nothing between here and there
makes any sense