This Used To Be The Bed Of A Vast Ocean

Out on the Old East Road, where errors undermine

The necessary journey, the Careful Reader pauses,

Determined not to let mere necessity define

His purpose, or compromise his independent clauses.

A system of coordinated piles, with trusses

Slung between, once supported meaning and intent

With such clarity and consistency of style that buses

Full of passengers who knew what each other meant

Raced along the causeway against the rising tide

Talking of use and usage and abuse, of that and which,

Of what should be accepted, what had to be denied;

The angry ghosts that poison, the bodies that enrich

Our native tongue. The Careful Reader sniffs out those who died

For an old ladder rotting in a muddy ditch.

Against Nature

My widowed mother introduced

My niece to Hodge, a swine –

A vicious wretch whose natural gifts

Were poor to those of mine.

His winter jacket caught my eye –

A Danish army fleece.

I’d recognise it anywhere –

I'd given it to my neice;

And she had given it to Hodge,

Or so he said. A fever

Overcame her, so he said.

I advised him to forget her:

"Leave her to heaven and to those thorns

That in her bosom lodge

To prick and sting her.” And he said,

“Our married name was Hodge.”

Wholeness At Whitsun (translated by Jarvis Belchard from the original Latvian)

 Up in the southern sky

The sun’s ablaze 

With the promise 

Of shorter nights!

Ay, and longer days.

Down all the country lanes

Young Nature screams

“I am alive!”

Ay, and so green!

This is the life of dreams.

The sea’s a silent cake;

So slick the knife.

“Cut me a slice!”

Give me a bite;

This is the dream of life.

Ladies love to swim;

They’re gasping for breath!

Seizures and cramps

Bask in the deep water.

This is a dream of death.

Sunset, with Brent geese;

Gussets and broken seams;

Children in the air,

Salt and long grass:

This is the death of dreams.

Up in the southern sky

The stars are bright

With the promise

Of eternal life!

Ay, and endless night.