The Scream

A derealization moment

I heard the Scream
As I looked without reason
out of my window
I heard the Scream

Lamp-post with two
dwarf arms under a ring
a lamp within the ring
a crown on top

House opposite
sand-pebble walls
dish like an ear

Cloud-foothills grey
against scarcely blue

Then some-
thing else all turned
into something
else not
the real
lamp-
post not the real
house oppo-
site, but a water-
colour a photo-
graph a street
in ano-
ther
pro-
vince

or a dream

I could not walk
over and touch
the lamp-post
it would not
be there

I was not
in the world

and I heard the Scream

But presently
although the sand-
hue of the pebble-dash
did not lighten or darken
or alter its texture

for no reason
I believed again
the lamp in its ring
would be hard and cold

I could walk outside
not drown in the melted street

This melting of the real
into a phantasm
I understood then
was the trick of a fear
not a singular fear
but a common fear

In the next minute
I might shut down
a spate of blood
might all at once
turn knowing into

into

but

the house opposite
would still be there

Why should it
still be there?

Why should
the lamp still
light at dusk?

The Scream was not
in the cloud-hills
it was heard only
in the parish
behind my eyes

Ask any passer-by
there was nothing but
a horn somewhere
and a jackdaw’s croak

Ah, it was only
fear of death