By | 1 August 2015

They were Wesleyan she was Church

after his father died (less dour) she let him run wild forawhile

His father had climbed up the mine shaft and turning for home

therewas a motorcycle spoiled at the foot of a wind

that was only ever darkness

there was punishment of several sorts

it was a furniture van sticks of a home burst on the road

this verse refers to that verse when we met in Keswick

they played violins by ear and called them fiddles Irish Manx is different to Cumbrian

He minded about things so destroyed photographs

in the front of Arabian Nights there had been a coloured pencil drawing of her

soft hair

everything he did was complex and tender and wrong like petals

smuggling rain

there had been a child before him who had lived a day

and she she too had hurried her dreams through every tilt of grieving

This entry was posted in 69: TRANSTASMAN and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related work:

  • No Related Posts Found

Comments are closed.