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ANTHONY WILSON
I have published three volumes of poetry: How Far From Here Is Home? (Stride, 1996),
The Difference (Aldeburgh Poetry Trust, 1999) and Nowhere Better Than This (Worple Press, 2002). I have held residencies at The Poetry Society, Apples and Snakes and the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival. Worple Press are bringing out
Full Stretch, a new selection, next year.
SNOWBALL
for Martin
And I never wore an anorak.
I never even left the kitchen.
There were no stones to throw,
not in those days.
So I never was in that garden.
The snow covered the tracks
I did not make,
dreaming of thaw.
ANDY WAS RIGHT
I should never have had
that whisky
but I said to him
with a straight face
that my wallet went up
and ordered
like albums which come back
to haunt you
or diaries you dare not
tear up
nor leave open yet long
for someone
to find and confess
childhood disgrace
the earthquake in your head
hearing not
for the last time the words
‘love’ and ‘friend’
SLEEP MACHINE
And you have watched
your own hands
melt before your eyes
children weeping at airports
stones pictures of stones
screaming under the sun
dawn-break
and nightfall
windy platforms
torrents of leaves spinning
then falling while you fall
into the arms of your father
Or you veer
off the road into a tree
with flowers
already strapped to it
your son slips headfirst
off the jetty
no one in the auditorium
your briefcase empty
you kiss
a woman
you have never met
the doctor says it is bowel cancer
In June heat Othello
or the African Clawed Toad
erase themselves
like a virus in the film
of the spy all that’s left
your breathing
and a quote on your left hand
in smudged biro Queen Victoria
or Elizabeth
looking herself in the mirror
after the news
declaring Today I will be good
copyright©
Anthony Wilson
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