I awoke unable to remember
how or why we write poems
or make these line breaks
alerting us to another way
of reading and seeing
now I remember
meanwhile
rainwater collecting in buckets
shone like something holy
[first posted 17 Jan 2015]
farm buildings
the track led to outhouses
farm buildings
agricultural structures in
concrete and steel
barns
pens and silos
a corrugated shelter dripping
with rain
and silent uncomprehending
cattle
I might have left it there
but followed the track further
until I came upon earthworks
fortifications
barricades
put there to block my way
and still further I went
past the churches
and temples
and men shouting the resurrection
until I came to a tree
pale and slender
that wept from its side
and had no leaves upon it
but only thorns
that would not let me near
and I stood for a while
in contemplation
before heading back
to the farm buildings
and saw that those I had taken for cattle
were in fact people
and I joined them
and many were weeping
typical
oh God I’m so depressed
I feel just like a wet cigarette
a bottle with the cork stuck in the neck
a sandwich with no filling and no bread
a pencil with perpetually breaking lead
just when things were to starting to go well
another public holiday from hell
typical – always the bloody same
rain rain rain rain
[note. for those who don’t live in the UK – August Bank Holiday means one thing … ]
