The Plinky-Boat - by
Something near to true
night-darkness. The children
are playing the Plinky-Boat –
a xylophone made
from a reclaimed yoal
Something near to true
night-darkness. The children
are playing the Plinky-Boat –
a xylophone made
from a reclaimed yoal
Always
Solitary
Home
Excellent
Yet
Lonely
And I wish it
Never
Empty.
small oats rye bere barley
ripe harvest in late summer
a shallow ploughing
grazing and fallow in rotation
A Critique of Dialectical Reason…
In the Central Café
/ in Innsbruck,
/ a girl in a dark-blue dress
/ unlooses her hair from its clasp
/ so it falls to her waist,…
I lost my shoes on Rachel St.
/ Head lolled back to rest
/ against a pillow of the Mont
/ kiss the foot of the…
In the house where he sleeps
let my ears
be the leaves at the window.
No one
Looks forward to being old and alone,
The carer with a spoon,
Visitor gone
Who wakes every morning
/ in a brilliant mood as auburn bursts
/ cast filigree nets over foreheads
/ and swingparks and paint themselves
/ on pavements.
After she died, I swear the sky
/ Had the most beautiful of all sunsets,
/ A blush of pink, then red, a glass…
Things seen and done add to memory,
are shuffled like cards in a pack,
come to the top in ways we can’t determine.
Remember this then: that here we stand,
together, once and fifty times, and this remains.
sheer
/ anti-establishment
/ trees…
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