HARVEY POSTERIOR
If the bear wears the suit of
the lion, and the cow runs
away with the moon, where
does that leave us? Trying,
or just crying too soon?
-
My notebook is dotted with
the cuttings of childish things.
Mythologies of brothers, and
playful kings, stories of old
enchantment, Tolkien's rings.
-
I keep far from such things
now, drinking amber liquid
at a roadside trench, or a
streetside cafe near Broome.
The waiter cuts another single
malt from this bar-room's
wide array, while the panting
Dutchgirl barmaid walks away.
-
I may be a drunken sailor,
though not today. But It really
does sometimes happen: a
card-carrying warrior, a
drunken chief, a wandering
astronomer, a man of grief.
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