Two poems from Spacecraft, Penned in the Margins, May 2016 I’ve Carried a Door On My Back for Ten Years You lugged it from the builder’s yard. Now it’s my turn to know its stiff weight, the slow chafe of pine against vertebrae: a decade-long kiss, flush with splinters. I closed it when I … Continue reading Two poems by John McCullough
Tag: John McCullough
Two poems by John McCullough
Lichen It prefers untended places, drab corners where it arrives like a boon. Kerbs, slag heaps, skewed gravestones— the roofs of council estates it spots with yellow coins dropped from the sky. Soundless and rootless, it ventures small claims, its chintzy blooms opening on concrete as though it were love itself, giddy and bountiful, … Continue reading Two poems by John McCullough