DAY THIRTY – Paul Summers

no change given

the news is no less shit
when wrapped in sun

the taste of loss still
sour as an unripe plum

a hemisphere can’t shift
the weight of death

or else of dying
hope face down

& drowned again
in puddles of infernal

spring & me still waiting
on lenin’s slow train

alone & forlorn & in
the grip of northern rain

april’s thesis
still unproclaimed

jerusalem postponed
our flags left maimed

no chink of paltry light
to grace our days

all vigour subjected
to unspecified delays

 

 

Paul Summers is a Northumbrian poet who has been living in tropical central Queensland for the last four and a half years. Latest publications are Primitive Cartography & union : new & selected, both from Smokestack.

Advertisements

One thought on “DAY THIRTY – Paul Summers

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s