J.S. Harry Poems
|2.||Extract From “a Perspectived Report On An Australian Menace” (Soon To Be Published By The Asylum Of The Rabbit Press): The Hairy Rabbiters||5/8/2012|
|3.||Far From The Shatt-Al-Arab||5/8/2012|
|4.||On The Outskirts Of 'War?'||5/8/2012|
Comments about J.S. Harry
They use a pronoun called I
all the time. It seems to hop around
But you can’t see it properly
not all of it. Not like you can see
ears or whiskers,
or paw or a sun shadow.
This is what Peter tells the flowerbed rabbit
who lives deep in dark leaves
that grow straight to a sky of apple-red flowers.
She can’t read.
He shows her the straight line
her paw scraped
on the rained-on damp
green-growing ground: that’s “I”; he puts
two short, stiff twigs – one each – same length –
at the line’s
head & foot: that’s their