Flat-faced clown of the gazebo,

Lever that punctures the world,

A see-saw we cleave to and see our fate

Rising on the other side.

Piano of the shed’s orchestra,

A stick fastened to an evil

cast-iron cartoon seagull.

The opposite of a knife :

You cannot be used accidentally.

The force and stance required

Renders us one animal.

When the earth is gravelly

We sound like a distant car starting.

When muddy, satisfying as a new word

Used surreptitiously in the right context.

Once the hole is dug the only thing

I cannot burry in it is you ;

Tamping down the sewn earth

Like gunpowder in a canon.

Puppet on a blue-screen,

Dancing like a smug wand,

Suddenly disembodied,

From me, your erstwhile fossor,

Your mortal, flubby ballast,

Your spluttering engine.

from The Migraine Hotel (Salt, 2009), © Luke Kennard 2009, used by permission of the author and the publisher.

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