brace mirror

An Impossible Bottle

Instead of a galleon, I take long-handled tools
to a life and proceed to fill a bottle with
a powerful telescope facing a loaded gun;
a crystal ball shaped as a Romantic artist’s skull;
a reminder of good times carved on the keel of a pirate ship;
a beautiful woman sat on a stumbling block.

Piece by piece I place the first bottle
into a smaller second bottle, which is now
a leaking sea wall around a tower of creativity;
a song of inspiration; a mangled arm;
a prompt to set out like a stream in a heatwave;
a silent, destructive conscience wearing braces.

Looking in through thick glass at the original bottle
I see, if I squint, that it has now become
a useless plaything in a pit that has a bottom;
a container for dreams in a container for nightmares;
a vessel for liquids drunk at daybreak in Paris;
a jewellery box with a sign reading “Do not touch”.

Looking further still, I can see the first now contains
a seldom seen animal on a useless television;
a key to the paint box; a lock on my intellect;
a ticket to “Anywhere” with a gregarious friend;
a puddle contained in a monument to beauty;
a cabinet for a friend of mine; and my ribcage.


© Matthew Joseph Johnson, 2009