David Walker

Fenceposts need to come up.
                I plant the shovel
                head in, kick with my foot

and shimmy years away.

At the end we are coated like
coal miners and I shake dirt
from my socks. We learned what they meant

by leverage: a hole just wide
               enough to stick in behind
               corroded cement bases

coming up like half-licked

lollypops. Afterwards, he says
they go back in and I dig harder
trying to forget how little this means.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.


Posted on October 17, 2012, in David Walker, POETRY and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. MM welcomes David Walker. This is the first of three poems from David, one which might mean more to those who’ve a done a bit of manual labour than those who haven’t.

  2. A shovel ready poem by David in a mine full of moving images we can dig as disaster daily lives in these serious intimations.Congratulations, David Walker.

  3. Great work, David. Such a spare poem — but one that says so much!

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