The 14:12 drift. by John Smallshaw

The 14:12 drift.

Hitching a lift
think I’m shifting perspective.

Give me some time to be sure and when it’s certain to be
come and hitch up with me
we can work out those things
so differently.

After the bomb dropped and the place was abandoned
when the rats were the only ones left,
we returned to the crash site and swept up the remnants of a bad night that exploded somewhere in the town.

Back to the present as if it ever leaves me and glad to believe I’m alive.

Alice is still there next to the 10/6d rocking chair thinking she’s all on her own.

In the 14:12 drift we all have to shift through the maze,
I drop my gaze as mad Lizzie goes by me
Royalty tries me no end.

We’re done now and as the fun starts to unroll
I’ll dig myself another fox hole to bide my time in
and soon as my pupils start to pin and it all looks a wonderland and I wonder and
then I don’t.

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