An Undersea Jellyfish

outside the porthole,
when they turn down the cabin
to footpath emergency
lights, then – there is dublin,
a smear on the landscape,
spread out and glistening
like a sample of microbial
cultures. it lies on the world,
extruding its thick threads
of motorway, joining as liquid
these isolate dismal
commuter-filled towns
with the centre, an undersea jelly-
fish’s poisonous light. it’s a clear 10pm –
we’ll touch down in an hour
in london. I move my legs gently
and open my book,
feel the clay of portmarnock
full of living life under my cushion.