The 23rd
in memory of George Stewart
It casually loiters in the fourth line
of April, pretending not to stalk me,
the expiry date on David's passport
and the start of a trade fair in Brussels.
It knows full well you chose your namesake's day
to die, as if you were somehow afraid
I might forget. As if I ever could.
from The Knives of Villalejo (Eyewear Publishing, 2017)
Good Friday Prayer for all flesh and blood nailed upto hang and blacken in
the windas a warning to others for crow and fox and humanpest or enemy or
convic...
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