In the hour of blows
After fate, you’re emptied and resolved
counting cracked lots. It’s easy to destroy some things
tearing up treasures in a drawer, any portion of ill plates.
Plastic caps continue to continue with hardly a whisper at leaking
catches.
A spirit-sick narcosis fills languages with the road’s old charm.
Music, clear and dark behind a wall, sounds freely its extended death.
Open space and dark sirens tear the top off morning
when other precincts have given up that hot puncture from alcohol.
To go determined, disjoined, into a lost country
whose taste of forest the next dance liberates
what one hour has beaten.
This is the allure of cold dark work
the flagstone, the ratio and the protections.
Nothing is the same silence.
Jill Jones
5 April 2006
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Jill Jones
Latest books:
Broken/Open. Available from Salt Publishing
http://www.saltpublishing.com/books/smp/1844710416.htm
Where the Sea Burns. Wagtail Series. Picaro Press
PO Box 853, Warners Bay, NSW, 2282. [log in to unmask]
Struggle and radiance: ten commentaries (Wild Honey Press)
http://www.wildhoneypress.com
web site: http://homepages.ihug.com.au/~jpjones
blog1: Ruby Street http://rubystreet.blogspot.com/
blog2: Latitudes http://itudes.blogspot.com/
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