Closure - Piano Magic

On the forecourts of French libraries from Reignac to Marseilles

The rain rattles small cars, clouds drape over backseats

I am a photograph in your satchel, between a paperback and cigarettes

I am the dead bird on the gravel, neck snapped from last night’s Northwesterly

But no peace, no closure

But no peace, no closure

Beside these roads that halt like jetties, beneath circling murders are

leafless trees

Drowning at the knees;

some burnt to the fingertips

And here my tracks sink, end, return as I walked in and out of you

And here my tracks sink, end, return as I walked in and out of you

But no peace, no closure

But no peace, no closure

Driving back through the town

The road map-pinned by Pharmacie signs winking up-road

The cars slice the afternoon with a guillotine slush

As it bleeds into a night peppered by stars and planes to Japan

And the changing of gears jilts the cats from the walls

The truth lives with you

The truth lives with you

But no peace, no closure

But no peace, no closure

But no peace, no closure

But no peace, no closure