Our New Carpet's The Colour Of...
a rainbow slurry, but not the cleaved white of rainbow light; it's
a charcoal and goethite rainbow; a Pleistocene pigment pit;
an ochre shindig greased on a rock ceiling. Bog ore brown say;
possibly snuffsnot. We chose brown so it wouldn't show tea slops.
Nat can't knit without a pattern or play without sheet music
or assemble flat-packed furniture without instructions. She
can cook without a recipe but only to please herself.
Keith ate a kipper. Descaled, gutted, smoked, tinned and masticated,
he thought it was dead. Later when he leant it leapt, still fresh!
He swallowed to quash the herring's dissent. It will swim again.
All winter Cracticus Magpie croons ‘Come September'. Each Spring
he sings his defence as persuasively as Caractacus.
He'd like to split my skull to extract the word which skulks inside.
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Comments about this poem (Our New Carpet's The Colour Of... by Diane Hine )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare