Poem from ‘Between Giants’

betweengiants(web)

   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   

Skip a year or two and onto 2012 for between giants. My obsession with travel kicks in, though the collection has a wider span of topics of course – but my trip to Italy features heavily. The act of being a tourist features too, something which I still feel conflicted about.

With that in mind – here’s a non-travel one 😀

 

one of the townsfolk

despite our closeness
after all the hours I’ve spent
at its feet
from childhood with sticky fingers
& wide pupils
to today, sneering at it from the couch
but still unable to switch it off
for good,
it waits
making no overtures
from plastic feet,
so still but still so predatory;
the remote, its sly little
Puck
its patience like an old, desert stone
waiting for rain.
it knows I will push, press
& stab at it with lazy fingers
circling
in an almost stoned
fish-bowl dance
& I wonder what the television gives me

not just the pleasant cut-outs
of the sitcom & their dependability
being so utterly unlikely
to change,
nor is it shameful joy
beamed in via predictable
celebrity-failures
or even the news
when all I seem to want is mild weather,
& so if I’m not David
then I’m one of the squashed townsfolk
& I know that whatever resistance
I put up
is hardly going to wrap up a Western
or save planet earth.