Poetry

Ivan Head: Four Poems

Death of the Library A library washed ashore on the long sands this morning. Caught on the low tide all green-minded were unable to save it.   No intellectuals could push it back to deep water. A few dealers came at the death knell and offered to cut it up, cart it off free of charge.   They did so in a frenzy of flensing.   Anatomists from the museum came and boiled down remainders until most vanished into a pile of boned cartilage.   Trucked off, the schematic outline was reassembled so children marvelled that such beasts once lived.…

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