As it's quiet, here's a nice little ditty I've been playing with today, in
between some new website building, and glancing at the Aussies expunging
England in the final Test.
Any thoughts? It's very early yet.
And on a totally different subject, does anyone have any extended
information about the Russian poet Gennady Aygy's (sp?) career - I've only
ever seen a couple of his, from the Sixties I think, and I was intrigued.
Best
Dave (ditty below)
********
Swirl
I was lying there,
like ham on a cold table,
dead. Like somebody
elsed.
I drifted
a ghostly hand
through the skull's
still catacombs.
And felt the shock
of no current, a stripped
honeyless hive.
Corpses,
they say, sometimes
sit up, sudden
as a compass jab, in
the mortuaries, it's
gas, I remember,
the stomach's does it.
I must have been
my memories
hovering above
an after-glow
on the retina, rub
your eyeballs
the last imprint
before dispersal.
Swirl.
