The ambulances are always full of pain.
Flocking down the arterial routes of towns
and of cities

With the compression and concussion of sound

They fill world-weary concrete space
along, and around

 in every single direction

Microscopic
Nay, atomic
flecks of sodium orange sit deep in your eyes

reflecting, effecting or affecting?

 injecting the light
with luminessence.
That comes from your honourable and noble gases

Everything burnt

and we were made new again

but this time

everything felt and looked different

Roads distant,

Snow covered and treacherous.

A prisoner,

In the gulag of the mind.

This is what I do,

the work I create,
the words I write
the things I see.
All of this is a part of me

ALL WORK © Josef Minta 2011