Monday, August 15, 2016


All those who appear in my poems
Bear my warranty. My brother
Is played by himself when young.
My grandfather's ghost is not
Some spirit for hire on whom
I've slipped rimless glasses
And taught to make watches
But the ghost himself. (Easy enough
To conjure spirits. Harder
To make them leave. Because
I wrote of them, the Addled Parliament
Deem me a member, entitling them
To my protection and, occasionally,
A cold drink on a hot day.)


I cannot without danger
Of losing my shadow forever
Bid God or Satan or Baba Yaga
Appear when I want them
But neither can I shoo them out
When they've a mind to stay.

No comments:

Post a Comment