The Green Rose - by
Parts 3, 4, 5
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/ 3
/
/ Howl’ on to your horses for the death of sweet
/ Jesus, he almost said, almost overpowered,
/ sensing her sniping…
Parts 3, 4, 5
/
/ 3
/
/ Howl’ on to your horses for the death of sweet
/ Jesus, he almost said, almost overpowered,
/ sensing her sniping…
I’m going to round off this head of kale
and pack it sweet beside
the yellow slips that are my butter-breaths.
Caught sight of Davie McRobie bunking off school
/ while sitting at the…
for Gabriel Lalonde, artist, Québec
/
/ At da stert, dey wir a makkin o wirds.
/ Some o da aerliest wis shurley ‘haem’
/ an wirds…
High walls, mute, shuttered windows:
/ La Cour Bastide
/ In the shady yard at break
/ in the hubbub of strange language
/ others chalked the grid…
I didna speak
/ whan it bleetert doon.
/ Ma man wis gey taen up wi’ getting us
/ sortit, an’ it wis…
The kintra sleeps in haar frae morn till nicht;
An, gin the sun keeks throwe, ’tis wi a face
Blae, peely-wally roon, as tho meenlicht
A man on the bus smiles at me and I stumble because
/ for a millisecond he’s Tom Potter, a man
/ who held…