Clap September 22

Clap as if nothing happened.
I will listen,
I will let this dull afternoon
fantasy of fruitition disappear
with the swept away wiped clean – floor of my room.
There is nothing to tiltilate
the wonder-chips of my brain
the lady who didn’t die and other stories
will the jewellery shop remain bereft of ice.
Ice ice ice
letting me unfold into strange new corners.
I wish someone asked me the way
and I could mislead her, confidently.