OUR LITERARY HISTORY
scruffy rebel poets
Knights of the Realm
sometimes those
strangest of
hybrids that fall
into both categories
and there
in the schools
and universities
an industry at work
creating a mosaic
building a pantheon
that Shakespeare, whoever
he is, whomsoever
he was
can float high above everything
in great
volumes of cloud
Hamlet teasing the Danish
first minister to fix
upon absolutes where
all is
shifting significance
VAULT
opened the vault
hadn’t looked that
deep inside
for a very
long time
found your
photograph back there
brought all that
loss, sadness
to my eyes
and you
standing behind me
so passed it to you
you
looked sighed
kissed me softly
on the temple
on the lips
this the place
where all roads meet
all secrets
revealed
so close it must seem
to the end of time
GHOSTLY
did Hamlet’s father’s ghost
write Hamlet
in the same way
that
Shakespeare is
the ghost
the rest of the plays?
not a question
to pose to you
my friend Professional
my
world of cold truth so
riches to
rags of
its very nature
yours so
smartly sanctified
appropriately sanctioned
allowed you
to make money, get status
more more money
and status
writing this ghostly Shakespeare
than anyone ever
made
writing his
plays
IMMORTALITY
was striving
for the wrong
kind of
immortality
needed the kind
of accolades showered
upon Mr Charles
Bukowski
which in his case
was like
holy water
off a duck’s back
CRISP
the Sun
not yet crisp
have we
Aztec priests
to thank
for this?
crisp
is what the snow
in deep space
believes
itself to be
no
Sun
of any ilk
to bring
some
raging warmth
soften that reality
to what fits sweetly
within our range
whilst
we hold tenure
of
this place
PIECES
to be
or not to be
they will
not tell you
what could be
good move
never
mind best move
not a whisper
even a
glimpse or
hint
Knight, Queen, Knight
Pawn
kept under wraps
kept to themselves
just waiting for you to
hit the pitfall, move
without
seeing
odds so long against
pulling a Kasparov Carlsen
Fischer worthy gem
out of the hat
magic rabbit
of a combination
plan
(if that
be the word) not
as solid
as it seems, something
outside all
that you schemed walking
in through sudden
doorway
unpredicted
unobserved
asking you how
you going to get
out of this catastrophe
needing
strategy, fluidity,
flexability
your
calculations so
wooden
in Hamlet were chess
this would be the question
ANTHONY
every which way
you were
a better human
being than me
found time to
send me
a birthday message
was planning for me
to fly from
Manchester
spend time with
you on
Manhattan island
celebrating New York
and that house where you
lived where
everything happened.
(wherever you were
everything
seemed to
happen)
Professor Emeritus (seriously
outranking me) out
there in
Kentucky
postcoloniality, ecology,
the political
landscape of
the South African novel
so kind
to me and I let our friendship
drift our connection
dither
and now looks like
whatever it means eight
years ago
you slipped off
the radar
I know what I fear it
might mean
one of the best
no longer
around
that laugh, that kindness
no longer here
BUT NO THANKS
thanks
but no
thanks
put way the glue,
the tape, the tacks
there is
no
quick fix here
might as well
look at the likeness
we how slap-
dash the thing
got crafted
damaged
beyond repair
and you in what
might pass for
artistic agony
crying out
in self-destructive rage
your wounds
my wounds
there’s all you know
about representation
all you feel
about transferability
poems 2 die for