I see men as black sticks gathered
around the wind.
Faces liquid in the rain.
Mother why is my heart
So full with life one moment
And empty the next?
Sometimes I think one word
Would be enough
And just one feeling ideal
Mother why is it so quiet?
When I’m dead
Nail me in a shoebox
And bury me in a wedding cake
When the worms come a knocking
On the icing
I shall cry out
“No No. I can’t come out to play today
You’ve come a day too early,or a day too late “
I’m alone in my Paris apartment….
Boxed in by oak and ornamental plaster.
Windows robed like cardinals..
Jackboots crash against the cobbles outside.
Mother will they find an open grave
Big enough for us all?
Let the stillness protect me now
Tomorrow I will be gone.
.
Malcolm Paul
Picture Nick Victor
* il n y avait pas un chat is a Parisian expression
meaning ‘there is nobody there ‘…