About the Poem
Taken from the book
About the poet
Luke Kennard is the author of numerous works of poetry and short fiction. His first collection...
Flat-faced clown of the gazebo,
Lever that punctures the world,
A see-saw we cleave to and see our fate
Rising on the other side.
Piano of the shed’s orchestra,
A stick fastened to an evil
cast-iron cartoon seagull.
The opposite of a knife :
You cannot be used accidentally.
The force and stance required
Renders us one animal.
When the earth is gravelly
We sound like a distant car starting.
When muddy, satisfying as a new word
Used surreptitiously in the right context.
Once the hole is dug the only thing
I cannot burry in it is you ;
Tamping down the sewn earth
Like gunpowder in a canon.
Puppet on a blue-screen,
Dancing like a smug wand,
From me, your erstwhile fossor,
Your mortal, flubby ballast,
Your spluttering engine.
from The Migraine Hotel (Salt, 2009) © Luke Kennard 2009, used by permission of the author and the publisher.
Sponsor this poem
Would you like to sponsor this poem? Find out how here.
Luke Kennard Downloads