only the little
hair moves up on the aloe
the hairdrier blows
one, two, three –
the old man snores downstairs
he has died suddenly
into the foam there
to be known as Trevor
Sheridan Morley reader alliance trigon ease
paysan marble epigram reaver payroll chair
ego naming Basingstoke mainline treetop fear
develop anarchic creamery modem Lionel Blair
That Door (Sortes Ashberianae, after Robert Creeley)
the longer that door away,
rising foreseeable away well you
minor matter information. carousel distorted
get pageant. rubbish as look
the goings, hole fountain. moved.
for now on after to be, doing.
On the engraving of a Soup Tureen
(Which I have not seen)
By William Blake
If by dull rhymes our English must be chained
Because through bright discontinuities your Scots must not be released
And, unlike Vulpecula, the sour text
Unleashed because of pleasing tawdriness,
Don't bother to don (because you must not be liberated)
Doc Martens less extruded or partial,
Too slack for the gloved hand of Criticism.
Don't bother to ignore the hammer, or estimate the laxity
Of any note, or hear what will be lost
To lazy eye or unfocussed attention.
Profligates of point and line, more
Than Madonna of her chequebook, don't bother to be,
Accommodating to living stems outside the rope soles;
Nevertheless, because you will force the examiner to be detained,
He won't be released without the chains of his comrades.
Two shapeless solids
pressed to a third
some sunlit objects
mother's morning face
come up and dawn
Peter Manson's For The Good Of Liars is out now from Barque.