Poetry by Kevin Gillam

Three degrees

(i)

bleakness leaks from my
shut eyelids, sun splashing its
rhymes in orange and

blood, aimless verse of
vein, astrology and loss.
patient as silence

the question waits, won't
inflect, horizon pursing
lips on inbetweens

(ii)

bleakness
counts them best,
keeps me
on its empty pages,
undefined
as hyphen,
flabby vernacular
of now

afternoon sun leaks
through pickets.
folded over,
chasing it,
smell
of wet print

(iii)

bleakness works each piece
of shade in 4B, prefers
a smudged, matt finish

press leak: 'templates for raven'-
title of exhibition


- Kevin Gillam 2005