The seventh poem from my third collection, A Light Goes On ,is “Champs Élysées”.
This is a stream of consciousness stroll through the resting place of the souls of ancient Greek mythology, but something is not right in this affront of an after life.
“The blinding sounds of summer’s garden” is a confusing opening line,it’s adjective out of place to describe the sonics of summer,the wanderer shielding his eyes from the searing sun of an abundance in the noisy garden that is a full and fruitful life.
Then, at once, it is winter, and silent. The coldness of paradise has hardened the ground and nothing grows.
What does lie upon the barren soil is a “dead red lead balloon”. Something that has held such promise has become perversely earthbound in a hellish heaven through it’s own eruditeness it seems, devoid of purpose and “marooned”.
If I was asked to summarize this piece-I would say it’s four lines of a forlorn foraging through a disaffected dystopia where the protagonist’s puppeteer has cut his strings and left him utterly “deflated”
My second collection, Unreconciled Doors, is the subject of Season 2 of the Algo Poetry-Behind the Lines podcast-follow it on your favourite podcast provider to listen along.The latest episode has an intriguing title-“I fought the knife and the knife won”.