Wednesday, 23 November 2011


For melody and music
love and love-making
rain and thunder
the caressing of leaves
breaking of twig
uprooting the tap-root
of memory,
time for the madness of recollection
for the head-toss
robbing tongue of word
throat of vocal chord,
time to bend low
and lower still
for executioner's swing
and time, perhaps
for words.
it's not now,
no, King Silent's century has begun.

*For Marianne who wanted a ‘Right Now’ poem

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