{"id":4310,"date":"2014-12-07T23:16:10","date_gmt":"2014-12-07T23:16:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4310"},"modified":"2014-12-07T23:19:22","modified_gmt":"2014-12-07T23:19:22","slug":"three-poems-7","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4310","title":{"rendered":"Three Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"

Guitar, Hanga Roa, Easter Island<\/strong>
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

Eight-stringed and night-long
\nstrummed, you prove yourself<\/p>\n

a necessary accompaniment on these
\nlongest of evenings. Bigger<\/p>\n

than a fishscale, smaller than the sky,
\nhow do your songs describe you?<\/p>\n

Wider than a sardine, narrower
\nthan the sea. Sing to us<\/p>\n

of how, in this world of untimely things,
\na man might also be defined\u2014<\/p>\n

half way between a grass skirt
\nand a headstone, a mollusc<\/p>\n

and an ocean-liner. Mid-way between
\na hammer and wind-tossed<\/p>\n

palm. No, upon reflection
\ndo not tell us, Guitar. Sing instead<\/p>\n

only of your strings and not
\nof how this world is strung.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n


\nMoot and Pixie, a romance<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

Moot and Pixie, amorous
\nat Athenree, their names
\ninscribed freshly<\/p>\n

on trig and gate and upended
\ndinghy. Moot recumbent
\nstares down<\/p>\n

the buried village
\nof his belly,
\ncommences his<\/p>\n

breathless balladry: \u2018It is
\nas if a small tree
\nhas fallen upon me.\u2019<\/p>\n

And the grasses sang
\nas grasses can,
\n\u2018Nearer, my god, to thee.\u2019
\n
\nMichael Collins<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

for Greg Delanty and Gerry Murphy<\/em><\/p>\n

A marked man
\nskirting the Roundy
\nand Malt Shovel<\/p>\n

then crossing an adjacent bridge
\nwhich also goes by the name
\nCollins. Beneath me, the river which<\/p>\n

in this land of related things
\nmust also be
\na not-too-distant cousin<\/p>\n

and the half of the town
\nburnt by rioting British troops
\nanother proximate relation.<\/p>\n

There was a different branch
\nof the family\u2014bankers, impresarios
\nof the Last Great Boom\u2014<\/p>\n

whose faces I recognised as barnacles
\non the hull of the Julia, yet another
\ncousin you might have loved<\/p>\n

for her American accent
\nfallible tone\u2014a camera-wary Roberts
\nor just another Collins\u2014<\/p>\n

a salt spray or industrious
\ncrew to scrub
\nthe flank of her<\/p>\n

at the tail end
\nof this large, undulating
\nweekend, the extended<\/p>\n

or over-extended
\nfamily following dutifully
\nthe bowling match<\/p>\n

to the grinding accompaniment
\nof \u2018Half Man Half Bicycle\u2019
\nat Mannix and Culhane.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Guitar, Hanga Roa, Easter Island Eight-stringed and night-long strummed, you prove yourself a necessary accompaniment on these longest of evenings. Bigger than a fishscale, smaller than the sky, how do your songs describe you? Wider than a sardine, narrower than the sea. Sing to us of how, in this world of untimely things, a man […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":109,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[312,315],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\nThree Poems - The Manchester Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4310\" \/>\n<link rel=\"next\" href=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=4310&page=2\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Three Poems - The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Guitar, Hanga Roa, Easter Island Eight-stringed and night-long strummed, you prove yourself a necessary accompaniment on these longest of evenings. 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