Guardhouse Situated Close At Hand Poem by Pierre Rausch

By astonishment to watchers
Toward farthing exit
By the swelling pump
What was he intending?

By a stream embroidered under
In so rusty of a grating
A sort of corridor

All the rest was mist, was miasma
And breath from time to time
And in an expiring living
That they earn their condition

He was astonished at
A sudden widening
In case of necessity

Eclipse in the blouse
What had become
Real at departure

Instinct's benefit,
Well on condition, after effort
Madreport of the seams
What was he up?

By a doubled grasp
The sun and the sky
Draws you a little lower

The framework crumbled
Every movement, any shriek
It is earth and it is loam
Is in an estate of fusion

Can you picture
On the seashore
Can any one be great
Almost beachhouse