Echoes of William Blake "The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom." The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
bp nichol. The Martyrology Book II.
oh fuck it's rainingit's a peculiar combination : sea, rain, hand. peculiar, cuz it's poetry. but note the syntagm: rain, hand, sea, poetry: something falls, something reaches, something crashes its waves into something else.
stick my hand into the sea
that's poetry
From VII in the sequence "Migrant" in The Lease by Mathew Henderson. The foxes have lapped the water from sloughs contaminated by cow shit and they are later
retching rabbit from their stomachs in the fieldFor some reason (the mention of trout? the poetic use of technical vocabulary?) the poem in this part of the sequence and as a whole reminds me of Earle Birney's "David".
And even this water brings your mind to trout:
the first one you caught, slapped down, scales on sink,
and cut, still gulping, from belly to tail. Your fingers
probing like your father's, hard against the gentle insides,
and finally the quiet as you felt a little salamander, still living,
wriggle his head free of the guts. Placed him gently
on the lawn, found him frozen the next morning.
