Wednesday, July 12, 2017

people saying the news of light

The wind blew over the grainy fields
People saying the news of light

railway flashed in shadow, perfunctory
feet in shoes clattered down stairs
flash of a granite worktop
swing of a big fish swimming beneath
the eye of a little person
the pivot in meadows of seaweed.

A paper blew over the furniture outlet,
it could become a forest of breath
but I don't believe it. The child in the fish shoes
had buds in his ears: he was listening to chewing-gum.
Why would you disentangle your ideas --
wouldn't it harm them?


Something that stays in the ear... as a growing
child in the womb, as the growing secret of a grave,
what sways with the listener, slowly, to sombre strings,
while we look forth, electrified by sound, to the changing fields
and the swinging skies.

As if this poem doesn't have a single thing to organize,
has no texts to reply to.




At 8:01 pm, Blogger Vincent said...

Nice, makes me want to learn how to translate my impressions into a poem.

At 10:30 pm, Blogger Michael Peverett said...



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