Three Poems
John Levett, 6 June 1985
Day breaks and the night steams North, Its pitch-dark barges heading for Cape Rigor and the Land of Truth, Perfection’s speculative glare; The seas ice over and preserve Their endlessly refractive coast, An empty and eternal curve, Light packed against the polar frost.
These August nights are nothing more Than souped-up evenings, sweat-soaked sheets, Or coming to on...