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Simon is a writer and artist whose work celebrates the customary language, marks and symbols people have used to present, protect and promote their community and make sense of the relationships, time and space they share. He’s a founder of The Museum of Futures in Surbiton, has exhibited and performed across London and had a handful of works published. He’s participating in emerging collective PoPoGrou and working on a book. www.tyrrellknot.com
To a town flâneur
What do you know about being small?
I live, don’t you know, to give notice for that very special circumstance
The prancing chancer’s affordable footprint
In an indeferent dance on amenity’s tip toe
An ancient’s survival is no ancestral accident of critical massing
As cheapened days return and metal oblivion’s viability
Through verdant belt, ever-tightened
And countlessly reckoned with soot rings seared in hate’s fearful archive
Pending deity’s deforestation, do I not more resemble the rock on which I grow
Ether-forged in core’s flame, ocean-quenched, prevailing sum of all the real
What do you reckon?
Any time, what do you know of such living
Taking advantage of mine to make yours?
Still through bole, branch and bough I bud, bloom and blossom
Brooking nothing that doesn’t now really matter
But still unhappy you seem with evolution’s regenerative path
So make of me instead a ladder for the two-peaked mountain of Mars
Mind to no inversion and cast not that lessening shade that tips our axis
For there’s no jest in Gemini’s genes conjugating your destiny
Gendered as sisters we are, to foreshadow masculine endings
Do you really not know how I am as much you
And my species was drawn to a scale par excellence?
So, stand by, for I’ve a plan now
On sun’s fresh foliage
Draw near, kneel, hold your ear close
For no faraway whisper of a moon’s assassin
Let me sing instead your salvation
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