Wednesday, January 09, 2013

New Poetry by Les Wicks

Avoid Direct Heat

We toy-men are not mean,
can’t help it we’re afloat
in plasticine.
Tin lake with stale water I will be free.
Climb the cardboard wall -
my thirst on a children’s carpet, trailing flecks of my feet
green slippage that enrages
the hard, narrow god that can ruthlessly tidy & vacuum across my tribe’s
Rama Rama panscape panoramas.

The pet flings a survey,
both dismissal & rape.
Centimetre chasms maw beneath that
scree of cornchip crumb snow on September Mountain.
Felix & Margaret marvels
had built an adequate truth in wire.
Fenced in dignity we grew bored...
free on new fibres
we fail towards life.

- Les Wicks 2013

To view Les's extensive bio/bibliography, visit Les Wicks' bio

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