Suffer Like Sixties Guitars
My hopeless are sometimes
here with dark dogs
and the clouds
fall all over the trees
as I admit how roads
hurt these bones
All the new arrivals
seem hopeful
the storm like a sermon from
a discarded lover
an old god
sounding like sixties guitars
no-one excavates
except in dreams
'I don’t know why I love you
like I do but
I do'
And this notches on
the dead of night
but the night’s not dead
it’s sporting with
whatever lives and dies
and the trickle treats you
with salivation
Who suffers moons and stars
They still won’t let us be
________________________
Jill Jones
www.jilljones.com.au
Latest book: Brink, Five Islands Press
http://fiveislandspress.com/catalogue/brink-jill-jones
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