Dagon, the fish god
the stethoscope and the aubergine
are heiresses to the wind,
her silence;
death has laughed in the shoe-box
and mother was a Sioux Indian -
her maxim-box was full of sandwiches
and love behind the refrigerator
in dustballs there.
the dry sequencings of ice have found me
and eaten beauty -
the pear-tree which grew on the mountain Hebron.
days have grown there
and slain to the wind,
the nipple.
cold fish, dead apples,
the palimpsest we writ in.
David McLean was born in Wales and has lived in Sweden since 1987. You can find out more about him at his myspace page: http://www.myspace.com/david_mclean.