From out of a clear blue sky [poem]

life delivers me
to the Imperial War Museum
i am unsettled by the word
and not too happy about

museum i quite like though

outside the museum
there is a pair of enormous guns
each a hundred tonnes
of lethal and precision engineering
pointing north

they saw active service
from the end of the first world war
to the end of the second

the little sign tells me
the distance each gun can launch
a one tonne exploding projectile

i calculate
that the projectile would
- from here, south of the river - 
comfortably clear
Holborn Kings Cross Holloway and
Wood Green
and could endanger fields and business parks
just north of the M25

for a moment I stare
into the clear blue sky
(there is no other way to put it)
and for that moment
I am the same as everyone
anywhere or anywhen
who has not known
that this is the moment
when it does
come out


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