i.m.
Michael Donaghy
Pastiche,
we plant paperweight scenes,
a flower fits its cyclic tricolour
(blue, white, red . . .
a
thousand blooms)
white, forget-me-nots; words which
manufacture blue
not
stellar red, sacred, or lily white
but
felt light: the bruise of tempered craze.
copyright © Sam Sampson, 2005.
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Sam Sampson here makes
his third appearance in Shearsman.
His most recent published poems (April 2005), appeared
in the English journal Stand Volume 6 (1), and
over the last three years he has made regular appearances
in Landfall, the NZ Listener, and numerous
international publications. A number of his poems can
be viewed through the NZ
Electronic Poetry Centre. |
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