I have nothing more to say
To you;
No nuance, tone, slipped
Lisp to add softness to our fall.
I took precarious perch,
Rooftop eyrie, megaphone armed
To cry dark rain from ill-augured sky,
Soaked you in its mythic tale;
Spent rogue hours, days, in thin
Streamed silence, no wasted whisper
Into seashells so you might hear
A hush of tears in lapped salt waves,
Cleanse the burn of Logos on low tide.
Perfect ears of hearty wheat
May catch my muttered drift,
Could they retell the saga,
Bluff, good humoured drama
In winnowed, windrush rustle
Of fresh countryside.
I could sit you in a darkened room,
Offer up a photofit, Eduard Munchs Scream;
Play film noir reels, trains and tunnels,
Exultant clouds of steam
In reverse.
I have nothing more to say
To you
2005
minor edit 03.04.09
