ISSN 1447-1779
© Stylus Poetry Journal, Est 2002
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 ARCHIVE: Jill Jones

 

Grass


Empty girl I was, so far inside, grass didn't know me

It was something unbending, only light seemed to touch

But so long as I could smell the sea, so long as salt

I had extrications, music, that fire, phase & beat

And all around the world went off, banners & avenues, cruelties

Now it's come one, come all, a kind of sassy hoedown

The grass is going, it cracks and withers sadly, almost infinitely

But I'm becoming younger as my dead drugs strangle each-to-each

I go out with skin mixes, cantos and some fear rocking

I stand or fall but now I can feel that region's joy, the bones