Halo from Space Junk by Sam Lou Talbot

HALO

You’re wearing a halo. The sky is bluer than your eyes. You’re crying into your palms. They’re upturned. Towards the sky. Do you believe in God? Or do you think you can fly? Do you believe in God? Or do you think you can fly? I know you, you’re in my dreams. Some Jungian archetype, no good for me. I’ve met you before. I don’t believe in a past life. Don’t believe in reincarnation. We’re only here once for the taking. Won’t you take me? Any which way that you’d remake me. Do you believe in God? Or do you think we are here for no other reason than to breathe for a bit and then go back to the dust or where we came from. There’s no rhyme or reason for us to… Or do you want to say that you mean business anyway? You’ve got to go out to the shops today. You’ve been turned into an existentialist overnight. You never understood that in your twenties but now you do. The absurd makes sense to you. Now that you’re older you get it. And Derrida’s point, or Camus and Sartre, he does it for you when you say: Do you want to have an intellectual relationship? We could be unusually good philosophers travelling around France. Then you say you’re too good looking for him, and I guess you are. And she was a right one anyway. And if they weren’t bedding their students then they were arguing and making love. And if they weren’t…

• Alternative
• counterculture
• folk
• indie
• post-punk
• singer-songwriter
• Glasgow