are waiting for me somewhere,
their sad beautiful faces
pressed to the glass.
Sprung clear as a brook
on a blue field morning
with a whistling overhead
and budding hedgerow glory…
It’s not their fault that this well-used path
is such a convenient line to the next village.
besides, this work is full of disgust,
mucilage, semen, bastardry, shattered glass at 2 am,
incessant wings and blood
in your mouth like iron
and murder of course.
Image: The Ramones, c. 1976, by Plismo from Wikimedia Commons; Written for dverse where Paul is hosting and asks us to write on Ars Poetica (the art of poetry). One of the hard things in writing is to cut a favourite phrase or image, or as Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch famously said to his class of Edwardian college boys: ‘murder your darlings’. So here’s a contrary view from Stephen Wright – who suggests that you tell….’the next person who invites you to kill your darlings: No. Absolutely not. And go f*ck yourself.’ And in that spirit, here’s Joey and the boys with ‘I wanna be sedated‘ (at least it’s short).