Thursday, December 5, 2013

Quartet: The Island



















The Island


the midday heat —
a drunken wasp
drowning in my glass

taller than the corn,
ripples blur the grey

every now and then
the voice of Jesus
from the SatNav

one errant keystroke
beyond a state of grace

----------

banished to the island
a poet
and his misty moon

a twist of wood smoke
sweet as any fish

amidst the roar
of plows and graders
groves of aspen quiver

any moment now
the feedback loop

-----------

the clock's slow drag,
she ticks off a box
in the personal ads

ice at the windows,
baggage at the door

the weight
too much to carry,
a footprint in the snow

so much for the students
and their placards

----------

don't forget your duty
to inform
on friends and neighbours

pouring gasoline
to burn a bit of trash

bright young couples
cradle lapdogs
underneath the blossom

brave butterflies,
we're off to gather scrap



John Carley and William Sorlien
by email
14th August 2013 to 4th September 2013

Carley: #1, #3, #6, #8, #10, #12, #13, #15
Sorlien: #2, #4, #5, #7, #9, #11, #14, #16


Quartet: The Island first appeared in Moongarlic, issue 1