George Braque Died Today
My poached egg mornings
Begin this way each day
Tea Toast and Grilled Tomato...
Marmalade
At 9am you rang
Subject...your lane again...
Guts flamed in anger
Blood high and rising
I hear your voice from far across the room
I’m rattling clean knives
Into the drawer.
My world is full of broken things
There’s woodworm in the drawers..
The mower and the car refuse to budge
The Hoover doesn’t hoover anymore.
Money is bleeding from my pores
I can’t catch up..can barely catch my breath.
Like bats wings flapping on a silent night
The euro notes are flying out of sight
Metal cracking...Grinding ginger
Doohickey gadgets
Malfunctioning commodities
Zips jam across my vision closing in
The phone rings
You have found the keys
I left behind me yesterday
Not that I could care..
Keys come and go
I have another pair...
...thanks anyway..
I tell you.that the heron
Took my fish.....yes...one by one
...that cunning beak
Large wings with deadly snapping
Cast grim shadows on the lawn.
After a lunch of fish...white fish with garlic lemon coriander
The day is lovely warm..
Grass green beneath an azure sky of sun
Of course.... I cannot cut it
Because of object perturbation.
... not a damn thing works for me.
And George Braque died today ...in 1963
Kristine Byrne 31st Aug 2012