Mark Russell

Three Poems

Men on Long Drives
About war, they say, there is nothing new to drop
thoughtlessly in the gutter. It is as common to cry
at your mother’s deathbed, as it is to evict her from
the family home and trash her collection of
worthless china. It is the grand hall made of gold
and ebony, and by equal turns, the house made
from twigs and hair, that may invite us to the ball
to see in the New Year (for reasons of networking
– and expect to leave early). A man who hides his
car and turns out all the lights to avoid his
neighbour’s party may have designs upon a quiet
night in with his laptop, or be slightly morose at
this time of year and too kind to subject his mild
depression on others. Two men who hide their cars
and turn out their lights to avoid their neighbour’s
party may no longer be speaking to their neighbour
because of the incident with the cricket balls at the
previous party, or have forgotten what day it is.

Tags:

Comments are closed.