13 June 2004
3 June 2025
comber
in a bookcase by the sea
dreams of childhood reassert
I pick the wrack
for hints of memories, history, lives
necklaces of weed a carapace a bone
between green covers
Heidi sweeps her home
eats toasted cheese
and sleeps on straw
gains a baccalaureate
in alpine wholesomeness
forgets she’s ever snored
between other covers
or led lives, like Biggles, who
drifts over Dresden
opens the bomb bay drops
his pellets in the whistling chill
they crumpet on the map below
bloom fire, blow cinders, boys
fly between buildings
burning crows, they rotate
over lava
there are other books here
last read in the fifties
The Bobbsey Twins
The Horse and His Boy
I can’t look at them now
but go to the window
and stare out over the bay
where angels drown
with helpless wings they choke
on wave on wave of bourbon satin
saturated
spastic, still
they slide down
remembering
Lucifer