surfacing and not surfacing I am seeing
an avalanche of white aprons--it's like "Annie"--
the blue walls are a blue sea, your hands
are a hundred hands. I know this is not true.
I say "it is like you are twelve lower servants."
I mean "below stairs" but you don't know that.
I mean an avalanche of white aprons, like
in "Annie." I mean things are getting taken
care of and all I have to worry about is politics
you know, like whether Labour is going to come in
I mean the blue walls are a blue sea but what you hear
is spleeughselfdlourserfs and then I break
the surface and make myself say "it is like you are twelve
lower servants" even though by now
in the clear air, the walls blue, the aprons
dissolved into stacks of books, a pizza box,
a remote control, even though by now
I know it isn't true.
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