Poem
Jon Stone
THE PROCEDURE
THE PROCEDURE
THE PROCEDURE
Look up from your blueprints,squint into the night.
Make out a mountain of ice.
Continue to play bridge.
When a tense minute has passed,
pull the engine-room telegraph handle
all the way to ‘Stop’
and as the grinding noise dies away
close the emergency doors.
Methodically don underwear, long stockings,
shoes, trousers, a Norfolk jacket –
or throw an overcoat over your pyjamas.
Now go back to your cabin to read,
taking a piece of ice as a souvenir –
about the size of a pocketwatch should do.
When the sea is up to your ankles,
joke about the soaked baggage – wonder aloud
what is in the letters you can see floating
around the abandoned mail room.
If caught behind a watertight door,
scramble up the escape ladders
that lace their way topside.
Shut the dampers. Draw the fires.
When the lights go out in boiler room no.5,
go aft for lanterns.
Drag your bed to the recreation deck.
Stuff your pockets with books, a revolver
and a compass.
The heavy silence of deserted rooms
has a drama of its own.
Be awake where they expect to find you
and know you have struck something.
© 2012, Jon Stone
From: School of Forgery
Publisher: Salt Publishing, London
From: School of Forgery
Publisher: Salt Publishing, London
Jon Stone
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1983)
To say that Jon Stone has just, at the time of writing, had his first full collection published would be to understate the impact he has already had on the rising young generation of UK poets, with three pamphlets published in 2010 alone, and an e-pamphlet in 2011.
His accomplishments include not only the writing of formal, voraciously experimental, precociously accomplished poetry but (along...
His accomplishments include not only the writing of formal, voraciously experimental, precociously accomplished poetry but (along...
Poems
Poems of Jon Stone
Close
THE PROCEDURE
Look up from your blueprints,squint into the night.
Make out a mountain of ice.
Continue to play bridge.
When a tense minute has passed,
pull the engine-room telegraph handle
all the way to ‘Stop’
and as the grinding noise dies away
close the emergency doors.
Methodically don underwear, long stockings,
shoes, trousers, a Norfolk jacket –
or throw an overcoat over your pyjamas.
Now go back to your cabin to read,
taking a piece of ice as a souvenir –
about the size of a pocketwatch should do.
When the sea is up to your ankles,
joke about the soaked baggage – wonder aloud
what is in the letters you can see floating
around the abandoned mail room.
If caught behind a watertight door,
scramble up the escape ladders
that lace their way topside.
Shut the dampers. Draw the fires.
When the lights go out in boiler room no.5,
go aft for lanterns.
Drag your bed to the recreation deck.
Stuff your pockets with books, a revolver
and a compass.
The heavy silence of deserted rooms
has a drama of its own.
Be awake where they expect to find you
and know you have struck something.
From: School of Forgery
THE PROCEDURE
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