Before True Rest Has Come That early evening, in September 1985, only one person was mad enough to light the lamps, and she was the cruellest. She behaved as a bore and did not like prosody. Call her Jasmine. She … Continue reading
About a Schizoid Going (after Philip Larkin’s ‘Going, Going’) I thought I would pass through time –A sense that, against the crowds,There would still be sanity in body-and-mind,Where the nurses shout and climbSuch flowers as freedom shrouds;I thought I would … Continue reading
About Recovering Beauty (after Philip Larkin’s ‘Ambulances’) Proud and professional, these bedsthread proud blooms of mystery, giveback a long, lingering orbto every schizoid smile. Bright,glossy, fay, charms on their backs,they come to rest on every ward:all streeted slab minds are … Continue reading
Giant whispering and coughing machines,But the Quietus shaped by thievesBroadcasts from a churchyard sleevedWith coats that serve as muscle:The wavebands glowing overpowerThe rabid storms of chording whereYour child hands clap against the air. Beautifully devout before a spentCascade of money … Continue reading