NIGHT WHISPERS (I)
(inspired by a poem we have forgotten)
John was talking
He was saying what he hears
Pressed along the wall
Along the wing
Time's all there is he says – flat
To one side
Every second word
What he'll never do again with women
He'll a take a lot one through
He's the man that ate
He'll take on a sliced loaf single
Time is the crease in his paints I think
Pressed in the army
John keeps himself neat. He knows
how quick thei'll spirit him away
In a bodybag along the stairs
Before unlock
He says he heard the screw say
One off sir
One off sir
One off sir
It's time
Time he looks back from morning
His face changing
Time is the razorblade
The comb's teeth
Time he eats
Shits, drinks, is sometimes
Merry in
The falley grey he lifts
Off his shoulder
There'd be no fear
Time I could handle
But all this dark stuff
Either side between
The light and light
