Sean Russell Friend
Unfolding the Clock
Here is a pendulum.
It swings a silver donkey through the appleyard.
Here they found me green and tarnished in bronze,
statued with a tawny hawk to a sacrificial plinth.
I counted the emptiness of her monochrome eyes.
Sidereal, almost mythical,
an acid cat savaged my hand, slithered blackly to
the smoke of burning verse. The pendulum sticks.
The hands twist, pivoting about the orchard page,
whose mottled universe dusts itself into archive.
Like a broken cigarette,
slicing white hooves through Gaelic worms, the
mule electrifies the replicating fashions. We pick
only rotten fruit. We caress the sepia skin of
unharvested potential. At the height of winter.
Page(s) 166
magazine list
- Features
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- 10th Muse
- 14
- Acumen
- 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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- Interpreter's House, The
- Iota
- Journal, The
- Lamport Court
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- Magma
- Matchbox
- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
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- North, The
- Oasis
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- Orbis
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- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
- Poetry Review, The
- Poetry Salzburg Review
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- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
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- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
- Smiths Knoll
- Smoke
- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The