why

Something I didn't quite say
---------------------

I am sorry
about your scars


Exasperation
-----------

I cannot begin to write about
the party last night, so
how the hell am i going
to summarise the plight
of every human being and
offer succour from this
bleeding spiritual malaise?


Composition
----------

The mirror in front of me
is gilted with ornate corners.
Within its frame is a
quite splendid chandelier
underlined by a dark wood dado rail
and three photographs of matches
in various stages of ignition
cropped by my diminuitive stature
and the curve of my spine


False/Reactive
-------------

Funny, for someone
with such grandiouse literary
aspirations, I often feel like
I can neither read
nor write.

Moon
----

I bought some records
and a postcard
in Oxfam.

One postcard I didn't get
showed the phases
of the moon

It was mapped out
in a grid and
was so pleasing that

I smiled
and had to show
somebody.

Tonight the moon shines
but the clouds
obscure it

Once, many years ago
I met a man
by a cathedral

He was drunk
and staring
at the moon

I asked
if he was a poet

he said yes how did you know?


BS Elliot
-------

I haven't read the right things
to make impressive but offhand
references and classical allusions.

The fetishisation of the atom bomb
seems like a good phrase
but I can't imagine
what it would mean.

My emotions
do not have notable literary parallels.

I write
in a vacuum
but only a partial one
or that would be
interesting in itself
and may lead to innovation

I write
with the half knowledge
that things like this
are best kept to oneself.