1
"Death is but a sleep"
quaint rationalization
even to Revolutionaries.
Think of Robespierre
holding his bleeding jaw
or Marat outside -
eyeing the inscription,
scofula no longer distracting while
tepidly emptying bath water.
2
Dreams, poetry of painting,
deathly pastel shades alongside
granite canyons
entwined with rosebuds and leaves -
bone horseshoes clanking in the dark.
3
Catch basin, drainage ditch
upon which the raspberry
parts its tendrils and
human remains, the loathing
of the living ("not dead yet...."
...appropriate obscenity:)
scrawled on one Victorian
mortuary, windows knocked out,
coffins in full view a
hand's reach away on a dare
dignitaries in a pile pried loose;
one, few years hence across
the Channel, sworn enemy
to the French.
Old Brompton Road
Paul Cameron Brown
(1)
Poem topics: away, dark, death, poetry, sleep, water, human, enemy, reach, view, bone, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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