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Poetry by David Musgrave
Recital by Author
'Bore'  2007 DK McDonald


bore starts off
through an opening
in the ground, an incessant
wet machine blabbing up to the sky
about how much gravity gives it a rash
and how that rash takes the form of a shadow weeping
into the dust and how inscribed in that shadow are cursive
snakes that have slithered for centuries just to coil in the glistening
grass and wait millenia more for prey while the bore eats up silence,
on and on it goes, speaking from an infinitely wearying reserve, the lone voice
in the desert denying the possibility that nothing could exist, there, in its place.

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