Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

statue in the main square
                                             windmill palms blown ragged
               breeze fronds                   thick dark blue
screams                            crashing white surf far out on the reefs
                        AK47 slung over the shoulder
                                                                            Dior
         red-glazed eyes
                    what makes a country            sharp sun cutting skin
the oiled worn metal of the magazine an old friend
       hard to know how much he had drunk
                                           at the end of the world
despair           or a hiatus                  making no sense at all
             trying to fit it all in to the logframe
        rip
make the most of this touch
                                                  rusting ironwork
           the old tracks and freightcars without wheels
   weeds spilling between                      the way lives entwine
                    how many species extinct already?
           mine clearance going on amongst the dunes
     mould everywhere                    chink of glasses on the terrace
                                     a glance across a room
ragged bombed ends of buildings like broken teeth
                        glitter glare
         sewer outfalls stinking in the sum ruin the view
                                  next to a village          the blue blue pool
            sunglasses cost a bomb
                                                    look no hands
                                                       thud of boots
                  or no leg below the knee
in a low cut dress designed for
                          sails neatly aligned along the horizon
        fishermen on the same course across the centuries
there and back
                        the islands just visible on a clear day after rain
        tapping his cigarette on the desk
                                                                 their laughter
             just give me a call
                                             sirens
                                                            bright eyes
                                       slam
             lights out
                                                     clang of iron
                                                           a smile over the shoulder
                               not necessarily by design
                marbled floors and the noon shade
                                                                           savour the details
                              a cascade of pearls
           the moment when
grit in the rice
                           stinging piri-piri
  forgotten how many tracks led through the forest
                           archipelagoes glimpsed through the trees
                      everywhere
           the statues staring out across the oceans