Astrid van Baalen

 

The saddest tree at Kew

There are words that twist the fingers raw
like only once, and yet again once more.

King Kong, when asked, is a film about immigration
and if you have ever examined an MRI scan you will
know that the spine does not resemble the great ape's
but has everything to do with long telephone calls.

Paranoids are the only ones to make sense of anything,
connecting everything, and although that may not be
flowers, it will be something, just like a sigh is another
way of holding one's breath.

There are burnt words in a battled silence
and if you have ever listened to goodbyes
you will know that they shout and gape
a mouth that slides down a mountain like snow.

The saddest tree at Kew cannot speak or hang up
and rain on its leaves longs for the spring.
The female species of the tree has apparently
not been preserved and in context hmmmmm is

a string of DNA for putting on hold and all things
broken and struggling to mansize and beingthere.

 

Copyright © 2008, Astrid van Baalen.

Astrid van Baalen grew up in England and now lives and works in Amsterdam. Her work has been published in several poetry magazines, amd she was recently longlisted for the Bridport Poetry Prize and is also the founder and editor of Pars, a science and arts publication.