Poems: Rupert Loydell

Deep mourning costumes.

Even That

I never liked anything
as much as his first book
and he never liked me
saying that. Later on,
he got serious and it all
went wrong; you can
have too much of
a good thing, even if
your motives make sense.
I must drive to the funeral,
to pay my respects, say
the things I have to say,
mainly hallos and good
-byes. Don’t think about
how we are composed,
decomposed or composted,
are all over the place.
I never liked anything
very much but now
even that is gone.
 
 

The Sad Parade

I join the sad parade
that edges towards morning,
hoping that something
will be left for me
whenever, wherever,
I arrive. Of course,
there is nothing here
and I must join
another line
that optimistically
snakes away
towards tomorrow.
 
 
 
Rupert Loydell is Senior Lecturer in English with Creative Writing at Falmouth University, the editor of Stride and With magazines, and a contributing editor to international times. He is the author of many collections of poetry, including The Return of the Man Who Has Everything, Wildlife and Ballads of the Alone, all published by Shearsman Books. An artist’s book-in-a-box, The Tower of Babel, was published by Like This Press; and Encouraging Signs, a book of essays, articles and interviews by Shearsman. He edited Smartarse for Knives Forks and Spoons Press, From Hepworth’s Garden Out: Poems about Painters and St. Ives for Shearsman, and Troubles Swapped for Something Fresh, an anthology of manifestos and unmanifestos, for Salt. He lives in a creekside village with his family and far too many CDs and books.

Submit a comment