an injustice all it is;
where no paths crossed
anger has her sails
azalea her colours common ground;
conservative in mind
ground as soft as gullet sitting still
face-down they lie
old tragedies and poltergeists
sucking through the gangrene
to the bone of soil
where grows my headstone
orderly and clean;
from foot to mouth
durable and white
to die bequeathed in art\'s forgotten will;
how quick the fallow deer have shaped my skull
from hell to horizontal
having died as any other man
when thoughts grew dim, when I
as black as pearl
in the comfort of my garden bed
untouched by human hands
not pity\'s sake; nor anger;
no tears shall burn the forest of my heart.
I came and went
as quiet as a grouse
three storeys deep
comfortable and still;