like five variegated pyramids
above the plain plane of ordinariness,
terza rima, ottava ditto, rime royal ,
Spenserian, foursquare quatrain
like a mule, five different spoons in line
alongside one indifferent bowl
or one indifferent plate ,
a cup of coffee AND a piece of pie ,
the words of Arcady are dead
and gone that once
so vibrant and vivacious were .
James Mandrell
HANDS
I shroud my hands in mist
and pace the other
side of the street
at this distance
I don't know them
or what they do
•
• •
At night asleep
an empty beach stretches
between a sea clear as blue
bottle glass and a wall of
chalk cliffs or passion-fruit trees
it doesn't matter
you're there
taking the sun at the end of the pier
I walk down the ribbon of sand
wearing my blue uniform
and soon arrive
my shadow falling across
