Comments about Andy Jenkins
A Mass For The Guilty
Line the oblong hole in the dust dry earth
with the floppy shapes of the ‘once were living’.
Do not pause to think upon your labours,
this is not your flesh,
this is not your blood,
lob them in like sacks of rubbish -
thought is not your ally in this.
Sprinkle them with quicklime to hasten their way,
then use your shovels to cover your sins,
taking care that nothing remains:
neither witness nor photograph,
with your grey tunics and pale faces,
not a button, not a fingernail left
to tie you to this place of shame,
so if this page should ...