The complete 27-minute film comprises 24 numbered sections, and may be viewed as a sequence of separate, interlocking filmpoems with recurring motifs.
For this winter, I have broken up the film into 24 parts and will be posting them day by day as we approach the winter solstice, in the style of an advent calendar. Each one is between 45 and 90 seconds each. So start your day with a few drops of imagery …
Here is the seventh film poem, November Lightning
He wondered how many types
of lightning there were.
He took a blanket from the pile
and settled on the decking
of the Founders on the Thames
wrapped up tight like an Irish air
in an unbroken voice.
Everything strikes twice, it’s the law
of a well-oiled machine. A pop up
from the futures market warned
be careful what you wish for.
The broken parts of the world
were everywhere falling like scaffold,
the streets of the City lowing
with livestock slipping and shitting
its way back to gold standard.
He counted 23 cranes over the City,
their arms shrieking a semaphore
of final demands, gathering forces.