one thing then another

 

one story then another conversation

always interrupted by another conversation

I want the words to barely glaze the page

gone the moment of their utterance

as we are

I want

in back of this a story a man with his face with his name

exile emigrant refugee displaced person outsider offcomerdon stranger suspect

the terms interchangeable politically undesireable

a story of a man who leaves his country

and the woman he loves

and the story of why

and her story

they never meet again

that’s it that’s all of it

far away she hears in the night street

footsteps footsteps stop

when she stops go on when she goes on

from the dark in back of her she hears

I can see you I can see you

Sammy Sammy Sammy Sammy I can see you

far away she must go on

far away he must go on

 

*

 

the middle ages

 

defeated on all sides

they tire of the games

and become their own gestures

for instance my lords Follejambe

who lie in their armour at Chesterfield

a little mad leg dangling from each helm

the dead and the maimed

already numbered

crows and the old picking women

what happens happens to all

a conclusion that is no consolation

think of silence now

the last message from the buildings

indecipherable over and out

static then the long nothing

the moment the lovers

walk away from each other

the moment the moment

such a sheepish calm on the face of the madonna

look of a man peering through smoke

a man kneeling into the light

who kneels in his own veins

and is alive is alive brooding

the forked branch of his solitude

 

 

gone the rain falls

 

the rain renews itself the rain

falling through centuries

columns and forests

oceans the ships nudge into

the house rears through it

its freight of jars bottles boxes

containers for all manner of occasions

assembled just for our amusement

the rabbit enquires of everything

is it good to eat? is it?

the rain finds the mouths sewn shut

the rain drilling its pits

 

*

 

whiteout

 

think of lovers for whom silence

is all the speech they can bear

become old with nothing to say

but what is unspeakable now

to burst again into language

a thousand years of nothing

then a single cry and again nothing

small talk of the aspens and the stars

at the continent’s dead centre

one light on a circle of ground

lighting the sleeve and the face

of a man carrying his lamp

the moment it is blown out

 

 

the new world

 

lady you moved me so

I may not be still again

and if I return to my own country

what shall I find there?

grass on the ancient hills

small fields running to smaller fields

the going away of love

and if I walk to the edge of my lands

when shall I see you?

 

*

 

here and not here

 

always among stones stoney places

scuffing the dust’s old pedigree

is there nothing it seems nothing

the taken for granted hum of the generator

refrigerator percolator traffic cries

the endless muttering of the machinery

nothing but stars and their stardust

grown upright a little wiser perhaps

from where do the words come

weepings and birthcries

shouts from the tram grunts corner mutterings

sotto voce cacaphony of things left unsaid

the grasses moving under the air’s

falling through itself

shadow of hand over hand

voices from rooms I’ve not been

calls from a country no longer in existence

the wind scribbling the water with letters

 

*

 

off message

 

everybody here on automatic

I’m on the train just leaving Liverpool Street

say hello to Uncle Joe for me

he was always my favourite dictator

lost in the outbox at paperwork.com

a customer at Incarceration Inc

date of birth sign here sign here sign here

all this and a water feature too

I’m out of here off into the twilight

a long way to travel to sit on a bench

listening to the wailing of yet another city

I don’t have the language for the language

I need a cup of coffee to get me to a cup of coffee

my next number is called Accidents While Dancing,

out in the apocrypha of the world

its dust all over my shoes

 

*

 

cape fear

 

never enough

the sound seeking its silence

all company its farewell

who can’t wait for it all to be over

the story the love affair the telephone call

history the message on the tape

at dark I walk by your house

hearing the corn creak

a ship on the sea’s nowhere

we have travelled forever without words

I can’t bear now to go from your face

forever forever and the distance

 

*

 

quickly fading here

 

huddled cold I woke by a dead elm

looking out over the morning I said

goodbye morning goodbye afternoon

goodbye silence begetting itself

goodbye echo my own footsteps

running away my shadow ashamed of itself

always on the maps where you want to go

is the crease worn away by so many fingers

searching searching goodbye to that

lost in a muddle of egg timers lost

in a labyrinth of assorted cheese sandwiches

signs that say remember to smile at the customer

confused by the sign in the video shop

last person out switch perplexed

by the what-does-it-mean of mind the gap

so goodbye riddle of the egg in the box

in the Chinese puzzle at the middle

of an infinite succession of nesting dolls

goodbye old drawer of lost keys

blue hills sea glimpse haze on the river

the mulberry shadow circling the yard

goodbye rainy nights in a far off city

the neon shorting at the corner of the eye

on/off orange in the drops on the window

constellations I’ve not seen a long while

goodbye Big Dipper goodbye Orion

goodbye dodo rain forest caribou

goodbye empire of grass field of wind

hedgeback where no mercy is asked

all the world falling away like a shell

I have seen you step from the house of your flesh

saying this is it this this is my life

goodbye is it so it’s goodbye so goodbye

 

*

 

in the desert

 

everything lost and the rains gone forever

the rivers and their names the dry stoney riverbeds

the groundwater in the wells falling month by month

the memory of grasslands antelope gazelle

lost as I am on the hot anvil of the desert

under the great shed of stars at last with the wind

without the endless need for explanations

questions to answers I can no longer give

some I met on the brown road to this place

the ant a bag lady with her bundle chamelion scorpion

bells on the wind nets to catch fools

and always some fool’s errand to run

I am breaking up into segments of myself

always another chapter in the tale that ends

the clock in my skull out of time in any case

the bones I am becoming walking off into the wind