Poems of Simon Armitage
|1.||About His Person||1/3/2003|
|4.||I Am Very Bothered||1/3/2003|
|5.||I Say I Say I Say||1/3/2003|
|6.||It Ain't What You Do, It's What It Does To You||1/3/2003|
|8.||The Golden Toddy||1/3/2003|
Just how it came to rest where it rested,
miles out, miles from the last farmhouse even,
was a fair question. Dropped by hurricane
or aeroplane perhaps for some reason,
put down as a cairn or marker, then lost.
Tractor-size, six or seven feet across,
it was sloughed, unconscious, warm to the touch,
its gashed, rhinoceros, sea-lion skin
nursing a gallon of rain in its gut.