A Living Poem by Emlyn Wentwhistle

A Living



To make a living
I hang out incommunicado in a classroom
looking for a centre-
the glue and mortar
that holds it all together.

The lynchpin at a lynching
Is the hanged man.

I'll say
'In the Antipodean winter, suspended by his boots,
the condemned man dies
with half the image of a waning sun
burnt into his eyes'

And no one will baulk at this.

Imagine Shakespeare elucidated on a banjo
and Eliot with castanets.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Anil Kumar Panda 09 May 2013

Imagine Shakespeare elucidated on a banjo and Eliot with castanets. is very nice.liked it.

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