Michael Cullup
Too Much
We have too much:
too much of everything we need at the one time
too much of childhood, too much of adolescence,
too much of being young or being old
too much of middle-age
early or late
of sun, of rain, too much of ice and snow,
of restless aggressive wind
bending trees to breaking point
slamming doors and rattling the gate
but turning, slowly, to muddy autumn:
moss, mildew, canker, eternal damp.
Days so heavy with stillness,
dragging
filling with leaves.
Page(s) 52
magazine list
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- 14
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- Agenda
- Ambit
- Angel Exhaust
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- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
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- Dream Catcher
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- Fabric
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- Floating Bear, The
- French Literary Review, The
- Frogmore Papers, The
- Global Tapestry
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- Iota
- Journal, The
- Lamport Court
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- Magma
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- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
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- North, The
- Oasis
- Obsessed with pipework
- Orbis
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- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
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- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
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- Poetry Salzburg Review
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- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
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- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The