Poem
Mario Petrucci
a half hour after
a half hour after
a half hour after
you leave some al-most thing starts : your
mattress impression stops
holding its breath – begins
to relax & swivel-chair
where you tackled
laces adopts that
strained angle of the clerk
requiring confirmation – then
i see through softly shut door
a house of pointers : your
draped towel on its rail
& bone scissors left
half-open there as though
simple addition of water could
jerk them to life : not so strange
then that a house should re-
member you with each
pine surface & glass
ornament its own sextant
keen for your one star to float
these bricks by – to hoist white
rooms thinned to canvas
by your sea-smell & i
no less join them : this
richer matter becalmed yet
seeming your merest breeze
might cast me off
© 2010, Mario Petrucci
From: i tulips
Publisher: Enitharmon Press, London
From: i tulips
Publisher: Enitharmon Press, London
Mario Petrucci
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1958)
Mario Petrucci is a prolific and powerful poet, known for his themed collections that explore love and loss, scientific consciousness, the natural world and the complexities of warfare.
His poetry is often situational, taking inspiration directly from a key historical site, such as Southwell Workhouse in the volume Fearnought, or the region around Chernobyl in Heavy Water and Half Life. Ecology...
Poems
Poems of Mario Petrucci
Close
a half hour after
you leave some al-most thing starts : your
mattress impression stops
holding its breath – begins
to relax & swivel-chair
where you tackled
laces adopts that
strained angle of the clerk
requiring confirmation – then
i see through softly shut door
a house of pointers : your
draped towel on its rail
& bone scissors left
half-open there as though
simple addition of water could
jerk them to life : not so strange
then that a house should re-
member you with each
pine surface & glass
ornament its own sextant
keen for your one star to float
these bricks by – to hoist white
rooms thinned to canvas
by your sea-smell & i
no less join them : this
richer matter becalmed yet
seeming your merest breeze
might cast me off
From: i tulips
a half hour after
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