The Work
If I have to, then let me be the whaler poet,
launcher of the knife, portioning off
the pink cut, salt trim and fat, tipping
the larger waste off the side of the boat,
and then to have the poem in the drawer;
or, perhaps, let it be the poet nurse,
hearts measured by a small watch, balmer,
washer of old skin, stopping by the door
in the night –
or the oil-driller poet, primed
for the buried flame and heat, lips to the black,
aware how the oilfields in the evening
are lit like our own staggered desks.
Or, the horse-trader or the smith, or the waiter poet –
offering the choice wine, polishing to the light,
the bringer of the feast and the bill.
‘The Work’ from Moontide © Niall Campbell. Reprinted by kind permission of the author and Bloodaxe Books, 2014.
If I have to, then let me be the whaler poet,
launcher of the knife, portioning off
the pink cut, salt trim and fat, tipping
the larger waste off the side of the boat,
and then to have the poem in the drawer;
or, perhaps, let it be the poet nurse,
hearts measured by a small watch, balmer,
washer of old skin, stopping by the door
in the night –
or the oil-driller poet, primed
for the buried flame and heat, lips to the black,
aware how the oilfields in the evening
are lit like our own staggered desks.
Or, the horse-trader or the smith, or the waiter poet –
offering the choice wine, polishing to the light,
the bringer of the feast and the bill.
‘The Work’ from Moontide © Niall Campbell. Reprinted by kind permission of the author and Bloodaxe Books, 2014.
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Listen to Niall Campbell talk about growing up on an island, his interest in spirituality without God, and the similarities between sculpture and poetry.
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Watch Niall Campbell perform his poetry. |
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