Home » Poetry » Janus Upon The Deep

Janus Upon The Deep

The coin flips between the two

The continents move so slowly that the waterfalls and woods aren’t jostled;
Storms abate down drains of melancholy
The lost intellect has seen its one chance flare and vanish
It is the heart’s unvarnished, recurring folly

Once again,
Pride of place,
Place of rhyme,
Senseless nights
Empty chime.

Where once a North American Poseidon slumbered,
Under waves of non-tidal origin but of pro-eroding cohesion
There is nothing but an island-sized god named Janus
Bleeding profusely from a temporal lesion:

In Both Ways
From Both Days

The coin has come
The coin magically reappears
Not all is diverted
Down the channel of their fears

Across the Atlantic basin whose Marianas Trench is
a little tranche of floated equities
On a stock market’s ticker
sinks the value of another

These streets are curving,
always curving

We hold on tight to a motorcycle past the last turn of these street vibes/waves
Into a fleeting darkness, tunnel-like, as obscure as a dime dropped off a mattress
And grabbing onto the waist of an island-sized figure
We merge into the wind’s caress

No windshield on this motorcycle

Sensed, utterly
And yet so sure of a destination
Clairvoyance today and tomorrow

There might be a bridge over Lake Ontario,
leading into mists aplenty
But whatever there is,
We’re leaving the land of landless gentry.

Greg Nikolic was born in the 1970s and grew up in the Toronto suburb of Burlington. After a series of adventures from Miami to Vancouver, he ended up in Hamilton, where he abandoned computer science to try to be a novelist.

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