"we are on the eyes and blinked away."

More Perihelion:

Bob Sward's Writer's Friendship Series

Book Reviews

Need to Know



Issue 14: The Double Issue

Issue 13: Free Form

Issue 12: The Necessary Ear

Issue 11: The Necessary Eye

Issue 10: Out on a Limb

Issue 9: The Missing Body

Issue 8: The Lily

Issue 7: Passages

Issue 6: No More Tears

Giles Goodland

On Paper

We smell sweet, we can almost love,
we come in through doors you never knew
and eat your food. We say, this sound
of a quickening in the forest

includes night in its umbrella term.
At the speed of dreaming
we scatter murmurs among an audience
of one. We are the kind of people

who never take 'no's the way they are said,
leave them on the floor. We feel
the air on the tongue. We don't
have time to wear out, we are on

the eyes and blinked away.
The stops at the ends of the lines
are terminals where we debark from
trains of thought. We care less.
Your eyes scan us like barcodes but
our receipts show you the value
of everything and the price
of nothing. We're all elbow.

Follow us down these long burrows
where we gather like
exoskeletons of ideas. Blow us
from our graves, back into minds.


100 yr old man

In regard to the hundred year old man
at the chipshop whose stories were
largely unintelligible: his laugh
took us with him into his past,
something to do with the North Sea, with
being sick and arriving, memories bubbling.
Something about flying over the Alps,
an air pocket. Every sentence, whether
funny or sad, ended with the same laugh.
The point of his words was the laugh.

Everything turns to comedy, to Lear in
slapstick, falling, bringing us with him.