Biggin Hill

I keep the possibility of madness
in the corner of my mind,
like a suitcase packed
with a change of clothes
and forged identity papers.
I have established the location
of the nearest psychiatric hospital
and settled back to await developments.
I see my anxiety
coming over the horizon
like a cloud of butterflies.
A thousand wings
pass through my body
leaving behind a clammy skin
and a face the colour of parchment.
This happens at fifteen minute intervals
as if in commemoration
of some long-forgotten engagement
from the Battle of Britain.

				Clapham, 1991

	John Rule,2004
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