From entropy in reverse. In which insects and aliens
soar, one in voice, the other by bicycle, flies around
a flame, a rising petal-fire. Indeed, it seems
all of London is burning. Even the Thames is heavy
with lantern oils. Its ripples ignite into the smoky
ceiling of purple city light. London is held by a great
breeze. A fantastic inferno of goodwill. Vivid
and silken and all in a row on the only pastoral hill
in the metropolis. Here, they’ve built a monument
to the countrylands. Here, your fantastic torches race, early
fireflies just grazing the gathering meniscus. Everyone is settled
and tense for the starting gun. Gentle, unthinking seaweeds
coruscating in the thick blue air before that click sharpens London.
After this birth by brushfire, the city is silent and invisible, honed
to the toned bodies as they chute forward in tuned and blinded purpose.
Annik Adey-Babinski grew up in Ottawa. She participated in the Banff Center’s 2011 Wired Writing Studio and is headed to Miami in August of 2012 to work on a poetry MFA at Florida International University. You can find her poems online in The Moose and Pussy, Burner Magazine and Poets and the News. Follow her tweets @poetsandthenews.