Alistair Graham Poems
Comments about Alistair Graham
That of God in every man, can you see it?
Pull back the yellow stained curtains;
chisel out the crusted mess from your eyes
collect the stinking garments, bring them to the fire
scramble over the self-erected barricades
begin the journey to the land that bears fruit
The scales and blinkers will spring away
and down, like giant hale stones descending
onto a drum, stretched with lambskin.
Skin, bloodied and scarred by searing juices on lit coals -
a sour breath from mouths sucking on vinegar sponges -
a congregation of Protestant and Catholic ...
Was black as hell outside
The glass in the back door
I couldn't see through
I pulled the door, open
A man stood before me
in the dark
He screamed in my face