Death of a Newquay Fly
I thought I saw Luke Skywalker
check into our beach hotel for a winter break.
Older now, but still with poise and assurance,
he strides through the automatic doors,
wheeling a squeaky travel case in his wake.
At the reception,
he dashes off his signature with a flourish
as if to please the concierge,
then turns gracefully towards the lift,
swishing behind him his coco-powder cape.
And I thought I saw him out on the bluffs
next morning early,
muttering incantations under his breath.
Who set fire to the natural log? What is East Grinstead?
Why is the sun?
The cold rain drizzles, but his cape is good for all weathers.
In the bay, a shark is doing backstroke, pretending
to be a surfboard.
The sparrow-hawk stuck on the air current above one shoulder
is Luke’s mind:
it's just one more Jedi party trick.
His girl, who is too young for him,
is dressed in a silky lilac two piece
and she wears pristine lilac boots.
At nights they sing like crickets on the dancefloor.
The disco ball accentuates her lilac highlights
and her roots.
A passing buzzing fly
he sizzles with a flick of his light sabre—
death caught it unexpected,
though no one could see the stunned expression
in its rainbow eyes,
and it seems like overkill.
Outside in the Newquay twilight, Sainsbury’s is ablaze,
the holy city burning on the hill.
October 10th 2020
check into our beach hotel for a winter break.
Older now, but still with poise and assurance,
he strides through the automatic doors,
wheeling a squeaky travel case in his wake.
At the reception,
he dashes off his signature with a flourish
as if to please the concierge,
then turns gracefully towards the lift,
swishing behind him his coco-powder cape.
And I thought I saw him out on the bluffs
next morning early,
muttering incantations under his breath.
Who set fire to the natural log? What is East Grinstead?
Why is the sun?
The cold rain drizzles, but his cape is good for all weathers.
In the bay, a shark is doing backstroke, pretending
to be a surfboard.
The sparrow-hawk stuck on the air current above one shoulder
is Luke’s mind:
it's just one more Jedi party trick.
His girl, who is too young for him,
is dressed in a silky lilac two piece
and she wears pristine lilac boots.
At nights they sing like crickets on the dancefloor.
The disco ball accentuates her lilac highlights
and her roots.
A passing buzzing fly
he sizzles with a flick of his light sabre—
death caught it unexpected,
though no one could see the stunned expression
in its rainbow eyes,
and it seems like overkill.
Outside in the Newquay twilight, Sainsbury’s is ablaze,
the holy city burning on the hill.
October 10th 2020
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