Richard Fleming


Richard Fleming Poems

1. The Cockle Gatherers 6/24/2004
2. Madrid 6/24/2004

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Best Poem of Richard Fleming

Madrid

Mobile phones are ringing
in the pockets of dead men,
in the handbags of women, suddenly
without hands.

Orderly European children lie
in disorderly heaps
like dolls, discarded
once the arms and legs come off.

Red trains,
broken like festive crackers,
exude smoke, the stench of death.
One by one, the spectral horsemen come.

The wounded air is rank
with splintered dreams, with outrage,
aborted futures, crosswords
unresolved.

In the unnatural silence
afterwards,
dust settles in ringing halls
while elsewhere, the world ...

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