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

The giant offered him a handful of boulders       put them down here,
he said     pointing to the rowing-boat      I watch at her bed
by snakelight     a lamp of snakeoil       the oak hailed its
future about our ears      water-drops and acorns in the gust
I practice temple-sleep often now     there is a statue I have
made of all 97 elements     hair of tin     eyes of bromine
a brain of silicon hydrides behind the bromine eyes     I have
another lamp     a jar of pale spectral honey     it sheds
light and a pawing silence     the whale flickers     the boats
go out     in solemn sheeted missions     inspect the sea-mirror
is he there     look behind the sea-crucifix     he fed the
corpses to the wild sea until the wild sea began to speak
he chained up stones that had been deeply burrowed by lizards and
invited the souls of the dead children to live there
the selves multiplied by the contagion of the mirrors     an iron
bell tolling in every drop of blood     a file rasping in
every drop of sweat     a crawling microscope lens     every snow
flake a tiny crystal skull with gritted teeth     the seven
long days of execution     now! at last the wind in the solar
oven the great icicle of days melts and out of the hollow end
rushes the warm summer breeze containing dandelion seeds and a
                                                                                                few
swallows      a skull made of the petals of buttercups