Tymek's blog, University of Warwick

January 12, 2011

Exercise thing we did in seminar morphed into a first draft of a poem. Yes, I'm really hungover.

The Montagues and the Capulets

Prokofiev’s downstairs

with his bastard string section.

Give up movement,

I have no time for it.

Do you not sleep, crazy Russian?

Fling this on me:

dying mule

face-first

beside the cold road;

dizzily jump the walls

until shrouds of glass

scratch my throat.

What kind of evil spectre plays this

ugly lurch now?

Soon, I’ll wander tremble-headed

down the stairs –

dying mules

might lose their footing,

so stay safe. Learn to love pain.

11.15am – it's rather dark.

Aug

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