Gedicht
Paul Perry
TOWING AN ICEBERG TO BELFAST
TOWING AN ICEBERG TO BELFAST
TOWING AN ICEBERG TO BELFAST
On the tip of her tongueShe’s . . .
Don’t think of melting
Pools along the way
A river
Think swimmers
Shipbuilding
On the long finger
She’s . . .
Don’t say it
Stop making sense
She’s . . .
Towing an iceberg to Belfast
By a horse and cart
In wheelbarrows
A berg
A mountain
A mountain of ice
Read:
All poetry is performance
All poetry is L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E
Not the iceberg
An iceberg
Blue and . . .
By dreams
With dreams
In dreams
Amen
She’s . . .
Towing an iceberg to Belfast
And gladly
To return
Return the scene of the crime
To its . . .
She’s . . .
Towing an iceberg to Belfast
On the back
Of an old Morris Minor
An exploded artefact of sorts
From the Falls
We’ll all be there
When she’s coming ’round the mountain
Coming round
The mountain of ice
The ice berg
We’ll all be there
Takes time
And money
Poets with money
Pleased to meet you
The latest craze
It’s the thing to do
It’s what we wanted
But never knew
It’s like how come
We never thought
Of this before
It’s real and imaginary
It’s nothing like you
Thought it would be
It’s better than sliced fucking pan
Or meals on wheels for that matter
It’s not a trick
It’s no one starving themselves
For entertainment
David Blaine meet Bobby Sands
Good night
It’s God honest
Let’s have it now
Straight and simple
And what of the ship
What ship
Ghost ship
Don’t say its name
Swallowed by a bottle
Why not
Why not
A blue bottle
Buzz
And floating the waves
With a message
For everyone
Arrival time
Forever and some
Museum of ice
Of found bodies
Returned to their resting place
Thirty years?
Agreed
Here she comes
Thank the . . .
With the arrival of the iceberg
It is agreed
All poems are to be decommissioned
At last
The city
Exhales an icy breath
© 2006, Paul Perry
From: The Orchid Keeper
Publisher: Dedalus Press, Dublin
From: The Orchid Keeper
Publisher: Dedalus Press, Dublin
Gedichten
Gedichten van Paul Perry
Close
TOWING AN ICEBERG TO BELFAST
On the tip of her tongueShe’s . . .
Don’t think of melting
Pools along the way
A river
Think swimmers
Shipbuilding
On the long finger
She’s . . .
Don’t say it
Stop making sense
She’s . . .
Towing an iceberg to Belfast
By a horse and cart
In wheelbarrows
A berg
A mountain
A mountain of ice
Read:
All poetry is performance
All poetry is L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E
Not the iceberg
An iceberg
Blue and . . .
By dreams
With dreams
In dreams
Amen
She’s . . .
Towing an iceberg to Belfast
And gladly
To return
Return the scene of the crime
To its . . .
She’s . . .
Towing an iceberg to Belfast
On the back
Of an old Morris Minor
An exploded artefact of sorts
From the Falls
We’ll all be there
When she’s coming ’round the mountain
Coming round
The mountain of ice
The ice berg
We’ll all be there
Takes time
And money
Poets with money
Pleased to meet you
The latest craze
It’s the thing to do
It’s what we wanted
But never knew
It’s like how come
We never thought
Of this before
It’s real and imaginary
It’s nothing like you
Thought it would be
It’s better than sliced fucking pan
Or meals on wheels for that matter
It’s not a trick
It’s no one starving themselves
For entertainment
David Blaine meet Bobby Sands
Good night
It’s God honest
Let’s have it now
Straight and simple
And what of the ship
What ship
Ghost ship
Don’t say its name
Swallowed by a bottle
Why not
Why not
A blue bottle
Buzz
And floating the waves
With a message
For everyone
Arrival time
Forever and some
Museum of ice
Of found bodies
Returned to their resting place
Thirty years?
Agreed
Here she comes
Thank the . . .
With the arrival of the iceberg
It is agreed
All poems are to be decommissioned
At last
The city
Exhales an icy breath
From: The Orchid Keeper
TOWING AN ICEBERG TO BELFAST
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