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First
Prize, Silver Wyvern Award, Poetry on the Lake, 2008
and
published in the Festival anthology
Sudden Jazz after
Interesting Paperback
Sky
deepening velvet
and
the mysterious seven appear
to
throw their wild claim across these shadowy mountains
involved,
as they are, in Transylvanian gestures.
Through
mid-ground flares of side-lit barley
and
dim cactus candelabras, the concepts flicker.
Each
contains a shuffle of convolutions far from
the
hushed libraries – the domey bibliophiles.
Wishing
and washing the air,
they
are a tide glittering out there
away
from this moony hammock
and
its Baskerville thoughts.
No-one’s
in charge—
(save
the threaded power cables)
—a
sax pecks and bites, then snuffles before serious research
that
ends in a scramble or one could say mélange,
a
free-line romp along the ridge line—
then
babble from the rabble
before
the whole jingling entity
gropes
its way towards druggy madrugada.
Odd
chirrup. Deep vibrato—
the
dancing seven recede and recede
so
its back to the back-cover blurb,
and
re-savouring the tangy resonance of the closing chapter.
Christopher
North
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