Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

The Salt Man’s Menagerie

With a roll of my fingers,
the midge turns red
and the vermilion lingers
just a moment.

With the dawn the locusts’
buzzing pitches feverish earache
in answer to earache,
their mechanical whirring
above the calls of macaques
and the barking of dogs
and the implacable roosters
and the gecko’s clack
and the rustle of trees
and the breath of my lover stirring.

With the dawn, the dogs go to the beach
and toss the crabs around, the macaques
have found a rock to break shells on.
Huge cockroaches burrow in the woodwork
and a black and yellow spider shifts its web.

The flies would descend on us.
A frog waits for the flies

but within the mosquito net,
without a second thought
I look at you, am caught,
and at consciousness’ bridge
I flick away the midge
and wait to forget.
 
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Robert de Born is a poet, folksinger and self-proclaimed cat-whisperer who lives in Sheffield. He has performed at the Newfound and Beacons Festivals and has work in Pankhearst’s forthcoming (late 2014) No Love Lost anthology.

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Categories: Poetry

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