Height of Nonsense


Poetry by Al McClimens

 

I’m taller than ten

tall tales. And twice

 

as likely as false

memory. Take me back

 

to the safe house,

hostage to the ritual

 

measurement, wedged

against the door jamb,

 

stepping away from

the pencil mark,

 

the date, the height,

the growing realisation

 

that one day I’ll be

counted in other scales

 

when you swaddle me

in your arms

 

and the weight

of the world falls away.

 

 


 

img_0439Al McClimens is an unemployed chancer, failed socialite, lapsed saint and tyro list maker. He reads a novel a week and writes a poem a day. Some say this is the result of a misunderstood social prescription. Currently engaged in compiling an index to the OED. He will work for food. Please give generously.