David Jackson And in between i write
up at seven
muffled dawning
coffee – eight
and in between i write
study horos
cut off contact
sunken nine
and in between i hate
masturbation
satisfy nothing
ten is saved for rage
in between i quit
wrestle paper
red of day
elevenses come buy
ice cubes, ginger
snap, to noon
drinks and tokes and lies
in between i hope
one for ponder
questions, cosmos
times for sleeping, learning
and in between i write.
***
The fish lays quite still at the bottom of the pond
listening to his own heart as
the desk talks of a life of children, crayons and colour
and the pen walks across the page as though to speak
a life of his own
the computer prioritizes his day
and the candle files the darkness to a dull gleam
as the moose types staccato footprints across the highway
the hat juggles for position on top of massive curls
and the bowl listens to the rustle of the cereal
as the cat lists her complaints with a disdainful twitch of her tail
and adds menace with her eyes
while the dog telegraphs his message to the waiting pole.
Copyright © 1998 by Marilyn McIntyre, All rights reserved
***
It’s spring here
or so they tell us
the squirrels don’t care
the weather’s not sure
Summer’s coming
always is, at the equator
deer rummage the forest floor
foxes bathe their pups
and the sun knows
Somewhere it’s autumn
the birds nest anyhow
dandelions grow, smiling
the grass stands up and moves
I, myself feel cool
Winter at the Pole
geese hiss their goslings
into bluebells, dancing
and the stream rushes along
he knows where he’s going
Spring is here
again without a timepiece
nature lets loose her bounty
the ice slinks into the water
time and infinity know.
Copyright © 1998 by Marilyn McIntyre, All rights reserved
***