Michael Naghten Shanks

Three poems

What Was That You Tried To Say

It comes knocking like a salesman travelling door-to-door,
peddling its humorous paraphernalia: Ah, here! See these
extra-long vampiric fangs, think how funny you’ll appear!

It comes knocking even though it saw you see it coming
from a house down the street as you sat on your porch
eating sliced peach. That dazzling sun. This plastic taste.

What was that you tried to say? asks everyone you meet:
your words scurrying away like too many cockroaches
in a room that’s just been opened; the light switched on.


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