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Twitter: @spower_steph, Wales, United Kingdom
composer, poet, critic, essayist

Monday 9 July 2012

TOURISTS

Tourists II


There's a poor eagle looking lost up at the farm by the fords.
He's not lost, he belongs to Charlie who lives there.

Oh, but he looked all lost.
He's not lost, he belongs to Charlie who lives there. Did you see the ID rings?

Ooh yes, but he looked all lost. Who did you say he belonged to?
Charlie.

Where?
There, by the fords.

Oh, but he looked all lost. Thanks for clearing that up.
Think nothing of it.



Tourists I


Today a silver car
slowed by the house.
An arm reached out of the
driver's window, taking
snapshots.

Of what?
Whose life?
What possible trophy,
what triumphant proof of
existence might thus have
been obtained?

Without stopping, the
car slid gently past,
occupants obscured by
branches dappled across the
windscreen.