Wednesday, 21 October 2009

Hurt thumb poem

If you had kept your thumb
History would have happened somehow different. [Mahabharata]

Thumbpain. The dolmen thumb:
The Stonehenge of my cupped hands
Waiting to receive the flying ball.

The glans of it plastic-shiny nail
The dotage of its wrinkles
at the point where the knuckle

goes round the corner:
ach, my dumb-kopf thumb,
ach the plug of it, between my lips.

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