Friday, April 30, 2010


You made it once before we knew it
as the meteor fell

You were good with an illusion
a dance and a laugh

on the edge of that sphere
that turned or on your chair

or on the streets
with your words to the unwise

with your hurt
and your charm

and your love affair
way on down the line

I can’t look at your images now
nor hear you speechless

with your mind in the ashes
and your hair that colour too

What hope for a man
who travels in words

who taught
and got expelled

who loved
and never made it home?

But it was you who saw to it
that we all spoke out

out loud &
out of turn

It was you who looked so hard
and inwardly

as if through a glass
to tell if it’s truly empty

and if on the other side
there’s something still

And down the hill
at Victoria Park

they’re turning up the Earth
after all those late summers’ sports

A new de-generation of winos
has come and gone

gone in the shade of the plane trees
I can see you (not out)

as you ponder their fate
And I too will ask

who it was
Was it you who burned so pure?

Grant Duncan 2/4/10