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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

In the Dentist’s Chair

take your sundays where you can
ridiculous names in memory
can turn the guide southwards
but a real, incomprehensible retort
as fast as rumors go
this is not erotic language
but shifty eyes and spontaneous search
cut a figure not a swimmers build
long stayed in youthful places
if this is just fantasy recapitulated
easy enough to get around
that impulse lonely in victorian light
the author remains in mind
and so i can use none of this


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