cannonballs

we float

      arc’d

  we are

     calculated mid-flight

        our past:  a curved conception

          of perfect beauty

               we are

                  an equation

                    our present:  a sum

                       of averaged and intangible points

                         and infinite tangents

                           described

                            with perfect beauty

  

                                we are

                                  a mathematical purity

                                    our future:  ordained

                                      by the plane which cuts

                                       our paper hats.

                                        parabolae.

                                         we are parallel.

                                         para- ll -el.

                                        parallel. 

                                      infinite in

                                     approachment

                                    rapprochement

                                   reproachment

                                  but always

                                 and finally               

                                unable  to  touch

                           at apogee burned, blinded by light

                         wings already melting.

                        at perigee, in ageless dark

                       stuffed down the barrel; buried

                     near the target

                    and  So  so    cold.

                  subject to

                the gravity

              of the situation

           surrendering to the fall

            

            arc’d

like cannonballs

advice to travellers

whenever you come upon a well

you should lift its bucket to your lips

and drink deeply.  wells may be few,

and far between.  thirst

is always nearby.

when lost at sea always sail

in the direction of the dragons, sea- serpents,

and mer-people.

they have escaped, as you must, the cage

of latitude and longitude.

when in a foreign city, take care.

to be wordless is not to be silent

and you are shouting at the passers-by.

when you meet a stranger

offer a name.  it is harder to do harm

to another whose name one knows.  do not

offer your secret name.  it is easier to do harm

to another whose secret name one knows.

do not seek to know names.

never draw a map in hope

of helping a friend to find you.

when you have drawn a map in hope

of helping a friend to find you,

keep it safely in your pocket.   points

of departure can be tricky, destinations

are trickier still, and maps, and people,  and other things,

are so easily mislaid on journeys.  besides,

no doubt your friend already owns a map

and will not thank you.

if you find yourself in a desert

looking at a shining city,

head towards the shining city.

if you find yourself in a shining city

looking at a desert,

head towards the desert.

if you find yourself at home

drink deeply and then

cover your well.  admit no travellers.

beware.

if you go to any city, or desert, often enough

or stay long enough

it will become a lover, and

travellers are the death

of lovers.

A Brief Paean to my Garden, occasioned by seeing a shaft of sunlight strike, after some days of constant rain

.





O, exuberant pineapple!






.

house

they stamp childness into floorboards

house folds them up in wideawake opendoors

billows bedsheets laundrywise

breathes them in

and out

they sing childness through walls

out windows into clearblue

house swings low a

woodendrone makingsong

hums and hugs it all the livelong day

they wind house into their plaits

wear cupboards for shoes

open house bookwise and draw

in the margins.  house dogears photographs

all stickycornered crackspined and tissueleaved

they shout about house quarrelsome

feedem patacake mudwiches

dress dollypegs shoot marbles for funsies

house squints along wooden arm

says keepsies

they run rings round house widdershins

sing crosstich rainyday fingerpricks

house spells magic alphabetty

knits cobbyweb sweaters knobwristed

fixes shadows on with cobblerspegs and gob oil

they splash house kettlesteam bathtime

wriggle slipperyfish soapsuds

p’tending littlepig tadpoles

house cups chubcheeks tenderloined

buffs roughpink in terrytowel

they play sleepover.  share beds pass out tumblepupped

under vanillamilk and honeyspeak

house eases a wooden buttock

on a stone chair

draws breath moth to light

they tell house seeyou clattershout doorslam

house rumbles emptybellied

coughs chalk dust

pulls greenrug round ears chillfingered

sings nighnight sleepytight seeyou

seeyou seeyou

gull

into a stiff wind
your impossible still smoothness
and those blades

those blades

with all their small twists, all their
twistings

one does not stop loving

i'm not sure i have enough fingers.
one does not stop loving.

each of you i hold
in cupped hands, dreaming
and with each
dream
dream
dream

each pain and pinch and slap
each loss and lack
each shovelful at the foot
of the mountain

i hold you all, and my fingers
remember
remember
remember

sshhhh
i will hear no voices

but my meat remembers
meat
meat
meat

and the slap
of flesh on flesh

and the meeting of
meat
meat
meat

i say these syllables
into meaninglessness

i stare at my fingers

and i love you
all
all
all

nowhere is it said
that one must stop

and i will not.




.

it started so simply

i thought i'd let you all out

for a bit of a scratch around the garden.
the odd grub or worm.
maybe increase the egg yield.

now you get yourselves up in the morning
and put yourselves to bed at night.
i don't bother with the gate
and the six-foot fence
is no obstacle.

but yesterday
when i came home
i saw one of you walking down the footpath.

i'd swear you had your purse
tucked under your wing
and were off down the shops
for twenty Rothmans

and a head of cabbage.

and the neighbours are talking.



.