Peter Manson



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

this lateness
to be known as Trevor

Labour 1995

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.


emotion the
finger stronger
you and
knees the


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.

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