Flightpath

Rupert Loydell
ISSUE 2006-1
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Flightpath All flightpaths and detailed diagrams, tangled wool and flecks of handmade paper. Someone recently left the picture, the handrail remains warm. Thin wires bent to shape change colour toward the centre join. Our radar catches something at the edge of things. Aerials and antennae quiver: whatever was once there has upped and gone. Some time ago. Black and grey and blue and cream and other shades of white. Subtle kinds of tone and unplanned decoration; sooty shadows and distant reflections mapped out on the road where pickaxes have attacked the tarmac. All planes and lit diagonals. Tentative whiles and wherefores, thin excuses for not being here. Someone has written something unimportant, their small goodbye, very large upon the wall.