Выбрать главу
The pilot banked his hundred wingspan south: How much magnetic, how much true, how much compass – Work the variation through, Two hundred miles an hour and a following wind, Harder to get home again over lace of roads and lanes Plus or minus deviation for a course to steer Red and black on spread map at the navigator’s table, A smell for life of petrol, peardrops and rexine. Run a pencil down from A to B – Now on the fortieth anniversary I reinvigorate The game which formed my life’s dead reckoning Impossible to fathom as in that bomber I assumed I could –
Everything mechanical and easy to work, Map in top-left pocket, crawling the long coffin Between bombracks and centre section No view of the world for forty feet, Parachute forgotten but who goes back At seventeen? Who thinks the air is not for him, Merlin engines all his own, strip map beckoning Through Death’s cathedral for a dwarf? Everything is there to open: the rear gunner’s turret For a technicolor backward view A track made good of woods and the botch of Leicester Railways of Rugby, the sandstone of Oxford The peace of Abingdon and first view of the Thames, Canals and rivers of new reality, calico tablecloth Hiding all in me, unseen from my chosen seat.
Better not to know how I reached the far-back turret Of downdraught and upcurrents, eyes on the past’s Wide fan shaping my destination. A button put me side-on to the slipstream, An east-west variation of the view. People ignored The buzzing of our passage, engines hiding the silence Of a so-far buried life, looking over four guns Ready to suck all spirits up like fishes to a net.
Cherish the distance between them and me But get inside the theatre of what goes on, Or open the door and tumble into space – No one would know I’d gone or where, destroying The homely panorama and my body. Death would not burn the spirit but I’d be off And out of the map, shoes, tunic and cap looted By gravity: Hello! as I spin, so glad to know you But I never will. There, I don’t belong, My place forever looking down and in. Alone, far back, to face the vanishing horizon squarely on. Dim as it is, don’t go, corrupted by haze Loving what I cannot reach. The theatre’s anatomy And madness missed, don’t care about a full cast waiting To come in order of appearance and perform their dreams, Ambition’s engine, curtains holding back Till the planet Lancaster divides the space And I return over empty bombracks to get born again.

SHYLOCK THE WRITER

Humanity is good to bait fish with, Salt fish that dries in the throat And needs vodka to turn it down.
Such human quality pressed A jackboot onto his vocation. A mob was set on him whose rage Needed no stoking.
A writer has eyes, hands, a heart A pen that sometimes scratches Like a rose-thorn at a gardener’s vein. He borrows words
And lends them out at interest, Turns from each season and With no humility or ignorance Tells a story to keep the world quiet.

DELACROIX’S ‘LIBERTY GUIDING THE PEOPLE’

For the first few hundred yards They knew her as a shirtmaker Urging them over smoky corpses, And when they said enough was enough She climbed the lip of the barricade To lead them over.
The world Was impossible to open with a bayonet That could not stop a cannon-ball in flight: Nor could her red flag light them Through a more than human darkness.
Then, whoever she was, she became LIBERTY. No one knew when, by wonderful inspiration She stripped off her shirt And showed her bosom as a reminder Of what brought them out of darkness.
Liberty, clothe your breasts With that red flag – I’ll love you then. Or let it guide the broken locomotive Not the mob.
The boy with a pistol – A cannon-ball took off his leg. Your breasts gave liberty But cured his worship. Now he sells cheap pictures by the Louvre Of Mona Lisa and The Wreck of the Medusa.

THE ITALIAN WOMAN

An Italian woman talking to her lover On some far-off ocean Mellifluously From a villa in Liguria: When are you coming back? Shortwave static gruffed his voice. I thought it would be soon, she said, The scent of shrubs around her.
I love you, he said, but Neptune rules. A sad laugh in her throat: Yes, I understand, So goodbye my handsome man, I love you too. The click of a telephone put down, Sea noise rushing back.
Ah, love, I haven’t lost you yet. I love the sad laugh in her throat, Face and body never to be seen Nor flowers surrounding her. I congratulate my rival, And swing the needle onto other voices.

THE LIBERTY TREE

First of all The brambles had to be pulled out By the roots.
With thick gardening gloves Against the spikes I burrowed around the tree bole
And clasped them tight And tugged their stomachs Out of cosy soil.
It wasn’t enough. I had to walk away Dragging the whole entanglement
From topmost branches, Evergreen needles snowing me As claws protested.
I got them down. And yanked them loose But it was slow work
Then cut away the ivy Broke each brittle snake-branch From sucker tracks
Halfway up and round the trunk, Some fingers More tenacious than an arm.
Next it was the nettles’ turn Them I grasped low down; The taller they were
The easier they came, Bunches of stings Cast out to die.