BONES
GRAVEYARD, or
'Door of the Dead' -
some bizarre
misplaced day
of deadened silence
or, a barren landscape, barred by
plasticine teeth, by the
voodoo of Southwark
Red Cross
Cross Bones
Graveyard; daughters and mothers
crossed-wires
- the fence thinks it is at a festival -
where we peer, think
'something stirs behind
this iron wall'
ribbons, candles, fine-print
of child's pencils:
the Southwark voodoo
works, littered across concrete,
in its strange ways.
No comments:
Post a Comment