Kenneth Madden

There’s A Poem in There

Bernard eat crisps as we spoke
about plays and poetry

Swine flu and exhibitions
Words that fall like leaves in loneliness

The whole sang, it punched and swaggered
Pouring through the seven senses.

Then the thought

The way the light faded
There’s a poem in there

Footfall on wet cobbles
There’s a poem in there

Folded crisp packet on metallic table
There’s a poem in there

Nobody going anywhere
There’s a poem in there

Marks and Sparks and a dinner for two
Days and a smile from the aisle girl

There’s a poem in there
But I can’t find it.

One Comment

Darragh said:

Very good!

12:35 pm October 10, 2009 | Link

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