Gedicht
Chris McCabe
HAUNTED LOAF
HAUNTED LOAF
HAUNTED LOAF
She woke me from a pollen sleep to tell me it would be a day of peace.These hardships, spoke the sun, give us another chance :
the first bionic sea-creature only made the news
because it got caught in a crab trap.
All that matrix blah of advice – but sometimes
uncles become uncles younger than their nephews.
The Question disarmed us : what were windmills for?
We worked backwards through every loaf we’d ever known
– best of boths, crustless, square – to find the answer.
Outside the democracy of the urinals was a box called
DRY RECYCABLES
so with love we clipped the baby’s nails to nano-crescents
to help the gnats believe they could reach the moon.
© 2008, Chris McCabe
Publisher: First published on PIW,
Publisher: First published on PIW,
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HAUNTED LOAF
She woke me from a pollen sleep to tell me it would be a day of peace.These hardships, spoke the sun, give us another chance :
the first bionic sea-creature only made the news
because it got caught in a crab trap.
All that matrix blah of advice – but sometimes
uncles become uncles younger than their nephews.
The Question disarmed us : what were windmills for?
We worked backwards through every loaf we’d ever known
– best of boths, crustless, square – to find the answer.
Outside the democracy of the urinals was a box called
DRY RECYCABLES
so with love we clipped the baby’s nails to nano-crescents
to help the gnats believe they could reach the moon.
HAUNTED LOAF
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