Abstract Poems

	The Ground Each day I lose it Rows of once-loved words Lost in hands and feet Feed their nonsense Onto nameless streets I pull them down Bit by bit, fishing Each careless frown And family photo from The wreckage of this I open up this ghetto With its stench of sweetness And the light pours upon The serifs and staccatoes That I once imprinted I plan places where My buildings are friends Where windows draw air Where a faint light sends The hint of its coming I pick at each kiss Unstitching nightmares From the weft of care So the ground where I am Becomes the counsel Of the happily numb And falling into life Has no start nor end And the earth has a thirst For a million of us © David Incoll 2001
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