A lamppost named Mark: pt. 0.
read the full lamppost poem, in order
O.
Sideways eights,
upside down sevens,
forward arrows,
evolutionary rocks:
perhaps the lamppost’s name
was Mark.
But many that are first shall be last;
and the last first.
(concerning the dark,
the other end of the tunnel…
Long ago on the Isle of Mann
rising above the Irish Sea—
refusing the yellow rose, my hand,
Anna turned her shoulder on me.
Now as I swim I dream of land,
sifting from darkest depths of memory.
Read one more chapter if you can—
you’ll hear more of the Lamppost story:)
more from The Art of Throwing People Out Windows
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