Gedicht
Peter Sirr
from Shhh
from Shhh
from Shhh
The counter intelligence community registers its disquiettoo many of us now, too much getting out
it’s an awkward day for dentists as the case drags on
and no one much is smiling now, not the firemen
nor the baggage handlers, nurses, first time buyers
and since they changed the city boundaries and lowered the fares
my taxi driver’s blue with rage, who never asked anyone to live in Celbridge
or fucking Maynooth, but what it must be to sit back in the evening
with your tooth repaired and your bags intact, watching
the last of the light revive the carpet and know
you’ve passed your five yearly vetting review, your grandparents
haven’t let you down, your teenage son, your childhood friend
haven’t spilled the beans, no-one has marched from the grave
to rattle his bones and bloody the carpet, and you are whole again
a re-trusted member of the counter intelligence community
your swipe card unlocks the canteen again, knowledge swamps the room
and you can cross the boundaries with your ear to the ground
your eyes on the cockpit, your whole body
as long as it lasts pressed to the pulse of the unquiet planet. Shhh!
© 2009, Peter Sirr
From: The Thing Is
Publisher: Gallery Press, Oldcastle
From: The Thing Is
Publisher: Gallery Press, Oldcastle
Gedichten
Gedichten van Peter Sirr
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from Shhh
The counter intelligence community registers its disquiettoo many of us now, too much getting out
it’s an awkward day for dentists as the case drags on
and no one much is smiling now, not the firemen
nor the baggage handlers, nurses, first time buyers
and since they changed the city boundaries and lowered the fares
my taxi driver’s blue with rage, who never asked anyone to live in Celbridge
or fucking Maynooth, but what it must be to sit back in the evening
with your tooth repaired and your bags intact, watching
the last of the light revive the carpet and know
you’ve passed your five yearly vetting review, your grandparents
haven’t let you down, your teenage son, your childhood friend
haven’t spilled the beans, no-one has marched from the grave
to rattle his bones and bloody the carpet, and you are whole again
a re-trusted member of the counter intelligence community
your swipe card unlocks the canteen again, knowledge swamps the room
and you can cross the boundaries with your ear to the ground
your eyes on the cockpit, your whole body
as long as it lasts pressed to the pulse of the unquiet planet. Shhh!
From: The Thing Is
from Shhh
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