an image of (scheduled) idleness


sweep through

the coffee-shop, dead on midday,–


a comma

in the agenda

of commerce and trade.




And raw human meat was piled, and steamed.

Silence split at the seams as the living groaned.


Rope-ladder ribs in concert breathed

With the light lapping laughter of giddy sea.


The breaking of waves, a hand which beckoned

To kinder soils; yet stasis settled


As suits and clean faces crooned sympathy

(Then moved mildly away, muttering ‘policy’).


So salted globes on cheek-bones stagnated;–

Even the movement of human tears, halted.