Tom Raworth
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Poèmes
i would be eight people and then the difficulties vanish
only as one i contain the complications
in a warm house roofed with the rib-cage of an elephant
i pass my grey mornings re-running the reels
and the images are the same but the emphasis shifts
the actors bow gently to me and i envy them
their repeated parts, their constant presence in that world
i would be eight people each inhabiting the other's dreams
walking through corridors of glass framed pages
telling each other the final lines of letters
picking fruit in one dream and storing it in another
only as one i contain the complications
and the images are the same, their constant presence in that
world
The Others
she said nothing
leaned on the stone bridge the wind
howled in my ear, pause
between the dropping
of the record & the music
dust the wind the streets
already in shadow
we walked someone
playing the piano in a tiled room
oh
said her mother a
mister dante called you
beatrice
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Two Haiku 1
slow cello music pushing the velvet armchair as the rain comes down
Two Haiku 2
the layers of glass spinning up in the thermal what can stop them now?
I Die of Thirst Beside the Fountain
they pass & i turn but you know this the act revolves around itself my time goes marked by letters, some enthusiasms vanish, in arguing with you i've used up many books but the work is too much. i have no energy to mould them sky darkens now the snow is grey sounds of cooking a movement of plates
this room is cold and i'm in trouble
