I’m laughing
But you can see what’s happening
People on ledges
Or crouching amongst needles
Pursing envelope thin lips
Offering chocolate box smiles
Whispering like steam presses
In dark cellars
Clutching the frock of the wind
I take a bow
But you are not watching
I bought a present
But I was afraid to let it go
In case it turned to soggy cardboard
In your arms
Would you understand?
While the thrashing of birds trapped
In bells
Topples me headlong into the wind
My veins sing like live wires
My blood is masked amongst
The pile of broken bones
Sitting in my room alone
I find I’m in the presence
Of too many
The saint,sinner, poor man, rich man
And the beautiful leper embracing
The tide has hung it’s coat up
In the hall dripping sea water
My kisses the last flap
Of a dying bird’s wings as it’s
Washed ashore
And with small damp feet entertained
The last thought of the day
As it’s left turning to powder between
My fingers
.
.
Malcolm Paul
Picture Nick Victor
.