Posts Tagged ‘Ian House’


January 15, 2007 2 comments

You look straight down
through clear water
to the river’s bed
or all around
where many-angled light
has turned the glaucous Thames
to abstract, shifting art.


In the pub a grey philosopher
studies the air. His hand
smokes behind a table-leg.
He compares notes with the Sun,
his head bobbing and bobbing:
a duck proof-reading water.


Snooty was the word for the swan
who looked down his bill
at coots masked for a ball.
He snorted like a soft fart,
up-ended his rump,
then rose on flaming wings.

by Ian House

Categories: Come Outside Tags:
%d bloggers like this: