The Green Parakeet
‘The green parakeet/escaped/to the great elm/above the tomb/of Clara Schumann’ – such modulated sound and timing provide the running thread through Desmond Graham’s new collection, which exhibits ‘the perfect management of syntax and juxtaposition’ that Michael W. Thomas and other critics found in his previous book, ‘Heart work’. ‘The Green Parakeet’ offers a darker mood and daring contrasts of form. The first half of the book is an elegiac sequence for an older brother, in which Graham discovers vitality through loss and love through difference. The second half ‘Postcards from Germany’, is a series of short, often elusive and teasing poems about places we cannot know without imagination. Throughout, pleasure and accessibility are brought by humour and invention; openness of mind and of feeling lead us to a knowledge of how much is absent.
‘The relationship between the poet and his brother is captured in a series of vivid poems … what unifies the whole collection is Graham’s concern to capture the quiddity of the loved thing, the essential genius of person and place.’ TLS
Killer Instinct
Where did that come from
your killer instinct
always winner
my father good at
almost everything
was always a loser
too kind to win
until we scoffed
and then he tried
too much in love
with what was to be made
to think he’d make it
perfectly – but you
my brother
counting cars
or naming buses
swapping stamps
or shoving pennies
kicking at the gate
with other children
that much older
not just me
were always winner
what then
could such a person
have to do with death
my guess is
you had seen it
in the distance coming
like a sky-er
from the boundary
where all of us
saw only blinding sun
hands cupped and ready
pacing backwards
just not capable
of letting it drop
Two Postcards from Germany
Mainz
Helmetted in stone
beside their gods
they stand guard
over the ribs
of a rhine barge
hauled up
from the centuries’
latest low
the Opel Astra
which rose
like Aphrodite
from the water
exposing its driver
still safely belted
went for scrap
Mülheim an der Ruhr
Four pots of de-caf
a sans souci of sugar
the thoughtfulness
of fork through cake
they make
a colour-card
in pale delphinium
primrose and magenta
and a little way ahead
and taller
champagne
they pluck umbrellas
from the empty hatstand
like choosing gladioli
for a grave
and vanish
into rain
