Two Poems
Mark Ford, 19 March 1998
“... the cracked bark of the peeling plane-trees. * So I planned to get quicker, leaner, braver, more Self-effacing: I’d pick my way between The mounds of junk cast off by warring factions, cleverly Disguised and idly humming. I swam midstream With the freshwater boys, and lounged on rocks At evening. Meanwhile the air slowly thickened With intrigue. Blueprints ... ”