the day driving over those books maybe
those passes of wild smoke over the hills
these things were irreplaceable
when that man stepped out and we knocked him down
we entered first the negative always history
the feelings then of such bespoke cake
what now is the name of that house
but the new thing of hardship
only ever again a wandering wild thing
that came from the woods in flames
all down the hillside of Honister Pass we rejoiced
in the flames of games now our very clothes speaking
of your new obsessions one can say nothing
just the earthly endless bells of dead lead
which do not knell well
if at all
in the bridewell
.
No comments:
Post a Comment