In an otherwise green field. A black stump
smouldering in a circle of burn. Land
near Doncaster flat enough to make visible a parallel
realm where that thing hasn’t happened. The science
of original laws excludes it. Purpose-built
is the mainline from which the long view hastens
counter to the middle distance, and purpose-
built the middle distance, its fences,
hedgerows, ancient oaks lending perspective,
foreground at high speed a series of precise
and irrecoverable losses. Warmbloods, spirits
of immediacy, graze margins of the River Don
heeding its true course through the realities.
They speak plainly. The lie must be inside you.