In the Same Place, Another Must Go Also
loam loose underfoot, dark tome
for a quarrel rested between forest floor
and a lyric of mantra on the tongue, brittle sand
crisp from wind droning. i take a wisp
of gin on my lips and my father’s shovel to the grove.
i also take the outlandish shaking of flowers under my arm, cry
petal, a flurry of pink like blood spoors, ladle
heads in their slumped dryness, into beds
where my mother beneath tickles the bare
toes of petunias, unknown to the noses of wandering does.
great opening line. I love the title as well.
Beautifully written. I love the imagery and tone of this poem.
I love these lines…i also take the outlandish shaking of flowers under my arm, cry
petal, a flurry of pink like blood spoors, ladle
heads in their slumped dryness, into beds
Your poetry is very vivid. I could smell the earthiness in the air while reading this. Great job Liam!
Unsettling, moving and packed with imagery – from the flowers to the grazing, un-knowing animals. You have such a clear poetic voice. I’m really enjoying (if that’ the correct word!) reading through your poems!