Three Times
by
Found in: Issue 2, Poetry
Published in October, 2020
Breech-Presented Foal (Drawing by Lyla Wortham)

I. 2011

and time, serenely leering
falls around me
falls around
like fruit rolling
rotting slowly
like the limp hands of the sleeping
all the little deadweights dreaming
falls around me
falls around
all your hours and weeks and days
like I haven’t any of my own
or couldn’t touch them anyway

II. 2014

and time!
like a breech-presented foal’s neck in the birth canal,
it telescopes,
a gentle snap,
to fall dead in the hay and mother’s foam.
“I am the dawn,” it says,
“be grateful.
Few things come so willingly at your call.”

III. 2019

with time,
never let down;
time,
never cursed.
let the cloudburst do its worst this time—
leave your laundry on the line, your sodden sheets are racing silks and you are past the gate in time,
washed under the wire,
where the summit daily hides from you a new horizon’s fire, every time,
shake your hide off in the sunlight,
stretch your tendons on the rocks,
looking down the slope and peeling off your dirty socks,
while the songbirds echo forwards in Tiresian paradox,
it’s always time.

Christmas 2019
by
In this country, it is an epidemic of loneliness is what I call it. Like a sickness that spreads. Yes, especially with the elderly.
Eden or Atlantis?: A review of the Computer History Museum
by
“People who had software would come with a bag full of paper tapes and throw them into the audience to anybody who wanted them." A review of the Computer Museum.
Landscapes at Speed
by
“See?” Antonioni says, “I have hidden nothing from you.”