INTERLOCKING PLANES
after Anthony Caro

Early it is one morning    given the right    and
the right conditions    (but whom do you ask?)
you take a fair trip round yourself    consider
redefinition every bit of the way    looking hard

For the centre    and finding not what they said
you'd find    next to nothing to having it said
(and you can put this down on paper) it might
be the best work yet (there's promise for you!)

But anyway ... everyone knows    it takes more
sometimes the nocturnal regression a radiant as
well as reflected light    to be even half in touch
with it    is identity ever at home when needed?

But I do like it finished in red and welded and
bolted    it suits such a permanent construction
what happens to no-one well it happens to me!
says one line    focus shifts a whole life whole-

Sale into a state of high attention as dewdrops
ravaging a new page quit it    no there's never
the likelihood of a face    the story's yours    it
reads    convincing enough while it fills me in




DITTO AGAIN

Knowing how to is arguably a fine art    Saturday
night was louder and less public than I thought
no-one had a chance of convincing the jury    I'm
giving nothing away when I tell you premonition

Showed up minus its habit    no statute ever read
its own obituary!    things happening out of body
either that or the occasion proved too much and
left us all bereft    keep death off the front line

Or disconnect the powerline    conscience by the
look of it dictates    isn't that what they'd say?
while back in the gallery visitors were tidying up
their words    is emptiness a necessary retreat?

For me all testing of the limits of art is a minor
accounting    neon and sodium and umpteen lasers
were really up to no good    if carefully disposed
but dancing in the dark?    how easy to decreate

One world or another!    refinement didn't get a
look in but memory's still preoccupied with what
seemed nothing more than a large scale rectangle
pure yellow    yellow as the word out looking for

Something    so much like itself it can't be found




EDITION (UNNUMBERED)

To prefer one form of listlessness to another is
beside the point    we all have an axe to grind
and vehicles of persuasion these days probably
carry far fewer passengers    your call or mine?

Don't indicators warrant a brighter light?    I'll
watch performances without a thought    sorry
sights for sure when a door caves in    if only
memories of childhood turned a key    but word

Has it openings were thwarted and advances by
a highly coloured army came to nought    I see
it can be unwise to take precautions afterwards
better in fact to go down unlit roads with just

A map for company    today I'm independent of
the news    content I think to take my readings
from a changing sky    to retire is (unnaturally?)
a part of life some say    and a line of slate-blue

Cloud heading this way isn't the easiest thing
to read    safe to assume confusion and its next
door neighbour are not alone but I'm a regular
contributor to the stars    my column inches by

And large are as close as dream gets to desire




FOR A SIMPLER SONG

It's easier to believe in paradise when you know
it's temporary    and understanding's mutual any
time a word gives way    I'm sinking into odder
states by the minute    or is it nothing visible's

Unique?    the boundaries once obvious seem to
favour a regular rendezvous with chance    young
people surely have proof to spare    outside my
contract or beyond this curious Summer real

Imagination mourns its loss    one side of a long
sad face the crowd is gathering for yet another
rowdy celebration    the laws are still immutable?
on evenings like this I seldom count the hours

But hold my breath and swear an oath to friends
and rank exhaustion    faint knocking in the heart
may indicate an incoming melody she says    how
generous I've been    what a dream it is    wrists

Bound perfectly with flowers    and a story too
unresearched to write!    more distance reassures
as much as dream prevails    quit now or let the
two works fuse    the world's for colouring in

In truth a street that's dark and warm buoys up


     Peter Dent 2009