Two balls with a salamander's eye,
one pinched like a septic scab
the other mourned in a Trappist sty.
Prayers scraped from an honest stone,
sincere words on target
aimed at dry, decieving bones.
Lusty arias on a veiny shelf,
stabbing fishnet willows
milking the swollen self.
Casket cases in sober lines,
through iced temptations
over darkened miles.
Figure hang from trident pole,
scattering fish and ogres
into hollow holes...
@Steven Francis poems 2011
Slip the noose of dying and madness for a time and share some observations with Welsh poet Steven Francis in this, his 5th collection of poetry.
No comments:
Post a Comment