Books
Poetry/Lyrics
Essays
Stephen Barry
Down decaying lanes of chalk,
lemon tendrils of brittle smiles
broken by fate's error.
His memory leaks in egg-cracks,
trapped in a box: perspex, wood, litter, straws, civilsation's dandruff,
trying to make sense,
trying to escape the thorned woods
of crumbled glass,
to find the icing fields of rest.
|
