(After Gould again)
How odd or even
obvious that we seek
the serene artifice
of a library, easing
our dripping sweat
with its slowed, cooled time
Here we first met,
face to face, I laughed
as I saw you had comically
draped a lithe trout
clumsily over a jar
while a rabbit, hare or
something similar
Fixed me with its
dead live gaze
from that framed place
so far..
Was that you?
in the delicate disproportionate head,
locked in the corpus, looking out
at these generations ahead,
Or did I see the eyes of the living,
In the contorted forms of the dead..?
Comments
I can see why he intrigues you.
Wouldn't you love a Tardis?
Gould was transported to Tasmania in 1827 for stealing a coat.
Hope my reading does it some justice. I would be happy to redo it if you have any suggestions for emotion/tone/pacing or whatever because I want to post this one on Facebook.
https://soundcloud.com/neopoet/life-still-game-by-chris-hall
Yes, he's a bit of an enigma
And, yes, I would bloody love a Tardis, landing on Sarah Island and rescuing him from that awful place. Loved the reading, great pace and tone. Thanks for that!
Cheers Jess.
Chris.