Saturday, 25 November 2000

From "Bench Marks"

By Drew Milne.

Sweet shift go slow, go
amid shingle and roc
and be so the camera
lies in felt ice, in harm,
a brim too far, our gorge
simply rises, comes to
to this general striking.

Or to some skurried bell,
sops a drift, democrats
in coup de main, row on
row and all for no one's
wedding, o dead rose
what murrain soldering
choler to fruits of gloom,
title tracks, this livid soil.


So go easy on the eye
above in fetid stars of
topic balm, high spirits
and cold accord of ruth,
sweet tigers, splash out,
your days melt in surds,
a fair and each to each
to the tune of millions


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