An identity shock

Identity Shock

Whoa! Stop!

Identity shock!

The world, my world
Shrieks to a grinding hold.

Silence Silence.

And then I am sent flying
Out, out and away,
Into orbit
Beyond myself
And around myself
Back again, and away.

Heavy matter in the middle
Light matter further out
So far out, it slips from my grasp
Out and out
Joining other minor constellations.

Then the world, my world
Starts up again, slowly, grinding
Upwards and onwards.
Pulling the matter that matters
Closer into my self.

Shook up and out
In new places and old
Organized
Ready
Spring-clean clean.

London 1991, copyright Lysanne Sizoo