Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Hickory Dickory Dock
A girl pedals.
A boy with the dream of her shirt in his eye
rides the metal carrier behind,
pressing her feet down with his.
An individualist stays within call.
My shoe cushions a small Chinese forehead
pressing down her eyes
for money.
Another kneels her black passin
into the sand
fingering a tin,
shells she has
collected to sell.
Her child rubs dirt
into the bright stripes of his shirt.
Bird song bird
thing-word-thing
sand-me-sea.
O ne between two
so that nothing’s seen
without involving all the rest:
she, pressing eyelids,
he, with prosperous vest,
leading all the world in
as their relatives.
This remembered and puzzled in sala-shade
where I had come
to meet and be alone with my friends
one between two
(involving infinity) –
when the sun burst into rubbery fire
through the smoked glass of waving branches
at the wind-open western side,
negating aloneness
(or any other kind of activity) ,
taking the form out of things
and giving glorious light,
swelling the colours on the bananas
until they stained the plate.
(Destroying a world of physics
with one splash.)
poem
by
Brian Taylor
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black