Waving - by
I took your black fedora
from its hook in the hall and donned it
for you on the doorstep, waving,
as they drove you off into the void.
I took your black fedora
from its hook in the hall and donned it
for you on the doorstep, waving,
as they drove you off into the void.
At night I am visited by fish, their tiny bodies
pulled from a book.
There are factories tattooed
across our lands
hidden in the hills.
Feuch an tigeadh guth
tron t-sàmhchair.
There they are, widows of the professoriate
/ Tied to their frail routines, but not unfree
/ Wheeling their shopping zimmers on Market Street;
/ And…
I am sending a message again.
/ Maybe you can’t hear it
/ through all the noise of lights
/ and the dangerous way things…
They are fermin the fower winds:
/ Five grey- stemmed daffodils
/ on the hill abuin Eynhallow
/ that whirlmagig air intil pouer.
/
/ Aa Simmerdim on Flotta…
I am an old book troglodyte
one who composes on paper
and types up the result
as many times as need be.
Week after week I watched the darlings growing
/ Like two strange children in an orphan home,
/ Aft from the thrust block to…
Yesterday I went for the second time to the Crystal Palace… It seems as if only magic could have gathered…
To provide the best experiences, we use technologies like cookies to store and/or access device information. Consenting to these technologies will allow us to process data such as browsing behaviour or unique IDs on this site. Not consenting or withdrawing consent, may adversely affect certain features and functions.
We use privacy-focused tracking technologies to help us understand and improve the experience of our visitors. We track activity, not users, but you can still object to this tracking via our cookie policy.