erbacce-press
Weeds grow where they want to; not where they're told to...
TWO chaps from Gillian Prew
DISCONNECTED #1
No tragedy: the tracks,
squirming in the rage of
chronic difficulty, nor the hell
of occupancy, truth
of an indefinite existence.
Understand the howl of the flesh
cramped in this half-cured trauma.
Flat, lungless: all is image,
else it is forgotten
like most memories, and remembrance
mostly a betrayal anyway.
I want like an unadorned finger
with poetry in the fist too heavy
to be born, and to love
properly without the hellish command of war
where every word hurtles to a wound.
I want the sun
to exhibit herself
more humanely:
forgive; or me
refine my hostility.
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spring sketch with small corpse
the world dilates –
thickens fat reds
flower the landscape –
clotted menses
staining the green
a bruise of bluebells
sorrows
amid a frizz of fern
gorse flashes its golds
in the velvet mud
bloods and blacks cotton-bud bones –
the silence of a blackbird’s throat
breathless
in the act of their blooming
wild poppies unfurl
sun-coloured
a sea-scent drifts in on the breeze
a fist of cloud/
gulls with oil in their blood
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To purchase this book click HERE
to open an email connection to erbacce-sales
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Prew's website is here
You can now order signed copies of this book direct from the author; click here if you wish to do so.
You can now order signed copies of this book also direct from the author; click here if you wish to do so.